What I want, what you need
by ChildOfTheMoon86
Summary: One mistake can ruin your entire world. But another could change it for the better, in ways you couldn't possibly imagine. Alfred's learning this the hard way. Fantasy au. Featuring Knight!America and Wolf!England
1. Fate found in snow

This is bad...

Is probably the understatement of Alfred's life, or what's going to be left of it.

He tries once more in a vain attempt to move, even just an inch but it's no use. He sighs, dropping his head back down into the snow. The bolder on top of him is the size of a small house and weighs _way_ too much to move. It's only thanks to his armor that he's not a squished pancake right now, though, he doesn't know how much longer that'll last. The armour's old, the runes binding the reinforcement spell into it are rusty and faded in places. Honestly, he's surprised that they still work, let alone are saving him from death by bolder. Not that he won't die here, but it's nice to know it won't be because of his gear, just his stupidity it would seem.

He looks about, or as best he can, pinned as he is, only his head and neck poking out from his stone prison. The howling wind of this Gods damned blizzard whips across his face, causing it to sting as he slowly freezes. The snow creating a white out, he can barely see two feet in front of him. But... death by hypothermia or starvation won't be his end... no, his end will be the one who trapped him here in the first place, his own fault really, he wasn't paying attention. Silly really, since he was running for his life, you'd think he'd look where he was going but, no, so now here he is.

He turns his head to the left, cheek pressed into the snow. Out there, over the wind, he can here it. The sound of a low growl, raw, animalistic. Four large paws near silently crunching snow as it stalks forward. Part of Alfred want's to shout at it for taking so long and to just hurry up already. He's cold, tired and just want's this to be over already. But that's only a small part. The bigger, and much more reasonable part, want's to tell the beast to fuck off while he works on a way, however hopelessly, to try to free himself. Not that the beasts of the world have ever been known to listen to anyone, at least, not that he knows of. But then again, his education in the realm of beast is more of the business end of a sword, so who knows? He doesn't, and he doubts it'll matter much now anyway.

Ah, he can see the thing now. Fur as white as the freshly fallen snow itself. Teeth bared, it snarls as it stalks closer, emerging through the blizzard, which it had created, he can see the puffs of air as it breathes. Green eyes trained on him, he's going to be it's next meal, they both know this. Definitely, he glares at the wolf, wishing so hard right now that looks could kill.

It circles him, sniffing the air, growling, snarling. So this is how he's going to meet his end? In a blizzard, trapped under a bolder and eaten by a Giant Snow Wolf. Not how he had planned to go out... Where's the heroic deed? The grateful villagers or indebted King? How's he supposed to leave behind and awesome legend like this? Alfred the Great! Alfred the Magnificent! More like Alfred, how not to be a Knight.

He watches the wolf as it stops circling, ceasing it's annoying noises. Oh, good, it must finally have figured out that he is truly stuck and can't cause it any harm, great...

It tilts it's large head, mouth easily big enough to rip his face off, and experimentally paws at his head. He jerks away from the touch, but is helpless to do much more. Annoyingly, the wolf somehow seems to smiles at this, as it sits and paws at him again. He pulls away again, but the wolf is insistent, and soon he finds he can't move away from it's touch. It sits behind his head, looking down at him, and Alfred swears the damned thing looks _smug_.

Cold, tired, and all too fed up with his hopeless predicament he angrily snaps at the beast.

"What?! Do you think this is funny?"

' _Why, yes. I do._ '

A voice floats through his mind, but it is not his own.

He stares.

"Wait, What?!"

* * *

 **Authors notes:** Hey, welcome to my new au! Anyone from my tumblr might know that I mentioned this a while back. This story was one I originally abandoned since I couldn't think of what to do with it besides the original premise. Still not sure exactly where this is going or how long it'll last but we'll see. It'll be a journey for all of us.

So if you like this knight Alfred and Wolf Arthur, then please stick around! And leave a review and tell me what you think.

Expect updates to be a bit slow.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	2. The mistakes I've made

**Chapter warning: blood, violence**

* * *

Okay, let's go back.

"It's a boy!"

Wait, no, not that far back.

"Front foot forward Jones!"

Okay, here.

Alfred swings his sword at the training dummy, right foot forward, blade slashing through the air.

Strike... Strike... Strike...

Metal clangs with each hit.

"Watch your foot work! Twist your arm, not the sword!" His instructor shouts directions at him. Always something to improve, Commander Gilbert Beilschmidt is as tough as they get.

"Alright, five minute break, then it's on to maces!"

He sighs as he stumbles back to the benches, pulling his helmet off, he grabs for the water barrel, dunking and draining his cup in one swift movement.

"Jones! Good work out there, your beginning to not suck!" Beilschmidt bellows as he passes. Al's pretty sure the man isn't capable of communicating in anything less than ear splitting. But the praise is rare, so he'll take what he can get.

Fourteen and a solider in the kings guard, just like his father and his father before him. He's of high born blood, and his family's sworn loyalty to the throne is absolute. First borns will serve, no exceptions. As the eldest twin, that means him. But he can't even imagine his brother serving, he's to smart to waste on the battle field, or so the joke goes. His brother's smart, a true born tactician, but him? He's a fighter, through and through.

"Alright, you lazy lugs, back to work!" Beilschmidt shouts at them from across the barracks, their all quick to do as he says. No one want's to run his punishment course for disobedience.

* * *

"Alfred Feral Jones the third, kneel."

Clad in his family's ceremonial armour, he kneels before the King. Left knee to the ground, right one bent, foot flat. Right arm straight across his leg, left held to his side, head bowed, just like he's practiced. His armour clanks and the sound resonates throughout the hall as he moves, his cloak, baring his family's crest, flows out behind him.

This is it, the high point of his seventeen years of life.

"By the powers of the old and the new, I, King Momarîs Oudin the sixth, do knight you."

The old King carefully brings his ceremonial sword down on each of his shoulders, knighting him.

On the outside, Al remains perfectly still, but inside, he's squealing like a girl and jumping around the room. Finally, after seven years of constant training, he's now a knight, at true member of the King's Guard. This is the highest honour that can be bestowed upon any single living soul.

He can hear the smile in the old King's voice as he says, "Arise, _Sir_ Alfred, Knight of Talmeré!"

He raises his head and smiles up at the King, then stands. The cheers and applause of court fill the hall, his fellow knights nod to him as he turns to the gathering, beaming. A worn hand falls on his shoulder, he looks over to see his King.

"Your father would have been proud."

Al's smile turns bittersweet as he nods.

"Yeah, he would."

* * *

The loud clanging of metal pulls Alfred from his peaceful slumber.

"Urgh..."

Sitting up he looks about, head pounding as he tries to remember where he is.

"Oh."

Now he remembers. The barracks. After the ceremony, the Knights took him out drinking to celebrate. Though, how he ended up face down under one of the benches out in the training field is a mystery to him.

"Jones!"

Ah, his head pounds painfully at the booming voice, Gil never changes.

"Eh, that's _Sir_ Jones to you now." He says playfully.

"Well, will the _Sir_ be joining the patrol, or does he need a little nap to get over his drinking from last night?" Beilschmidt laughs at Al's pained expression from the volume of his voice. Clearly enjoying his suffering, as always.

"Patrol?"

"Yeah, sleeping beauty! While you've been having your little _nap_ , orders come down from above. Patrol the Western front, kill anything that moves, unless they're a civilian of course." He adds the last bit seemingly as an after thought.

"Hell, I'm down for that!"

A chance to finally show what he's made of, there's no way he'd pass that up! After all these years of training, he's finally being allowed out into the Western front. That's where hero's are made!

"Great, be ready and join us by the Western gate in ten or we leave you behind!" Gilbert calls as he head off.

The Western gate... It's the largest of most strongly fortified of the city's four gates. He's only been out it once before with is father, now, it's his time to defend their home.

Armour clad, sword sheathed on his back, he's ready, and just in time too.

As he arrives, the gate is already being opened. Gilbert, for all his threats of leaving him behind, does have a horse ready and waiting for him. He mounts up and quickly follows the group of five others, and Gilbert.

Patrol, he learns, is actually _really_ boring. So far the most exciting thing they've come across was a river mole. Harmless, though they do make for a tasty meal.

"Geez, I thought there'd be more action than this..." He quietly complains, he knows how much Beilschmidt hates whiners.

"Hahaha, hate to break it to you kid, but this is what most patrols are like." Aldus, one off the older knights laughs.

"Yeah but there's gotta be at least something interesting out there."

"Don't know why your complaining, a quiet patrol is a good patrol. Means we're doing our job right and protecting the city and it's people." Galiene, reasons from his side. Al nod's in agreement with her.

"I know what your problem is." Emeny joins in, smirking at him, "Your a hero worshiper." She says knowingly.

"I, uh, I mean... um..." He stutters out while the group smile knowingly at him.

"Haha, boy, a knight hero worshiper! Oooh, that's rich, hahaha!" Randull laughs.

"Well, I mean, come on... You mean you guy's aren't?" He looks between each of them but they all just shake their heads and laugh.

"Al, that would be the same as us worshiping ourselves, of course we're not." Odger explains.

"Oh... yeah guess that makes sense." Honestly he had hoped to keep his hero worshiping a secret, but it seems nothing gets past these guys.

"Hold up." Gilbert raises his hand for them to halt, voice the quietest Al's even heard him.

"What is it?"

Alfred watches fascinated as Gilbert's red eyes glow, scanning the horizon. He's never seen him use his magic before, but now he can't look away.

"Pack of Uphairx, big ones. About twenty of them." His eyes stop glowing as he turns to the group, "Dismount and assume defensive positions." He orders as he jumps down from his horse.

Alfred quickly follows, leading his horse to one of the few trees and tying her there before moving back to join the others.

"Jones, don't just stand there! Get on rear defence with Randull!" Beilschmidt hisses at him.

"Oh, right."

He stands to the young mans side, sword drawn, ready to fight. They all now stand in a circle, facing outward, ready to do battle.

Every thing seems quite and calm, but just as Al is beginning to doubt Gilbert's warning, he can hear the low growls of the beasts as they approach. Uphairx, or the Stone Dog Bird as they are more commonly called. They move in large packs, never alone. For all they have wings, they can't fly well, their bodies are simply too heavy for long periods of flight. But they are deadly, with a taste for human blood and are notoriously hard to kill. Cut off the head and a Fire Blade to the heart is the only way. He looks to his own sword, a Sky Blade, he may not be able to kill them, but he can still do some serious damage. He can at least cut off the heads and allow one of the others to deliver the final blow. Except...

"Kesesese!" Behind him he can hear Gil's laugh and the sounds of metal on stone as the others fight. The thing is the Uphairx are only coming from one way... so, stuck in his rear defence position, he's missing all the action!

"Aldus, look out!" He hears Galiene call.

Enough is enough! Al turns from his position and joins the fray. Sword slicing through the air, he easily cuts off the head of one of the beasts. However, he's just made the biggest mistake of his life...

"Aaaaaa!"

" _Randull!_ "

He turns and sees one of the beasts has the man in it's jaws, stone teeth sinking into his shoulders.

"Hold on!" He cries as he runs back over, but the damage is done. As he runs another beast joins it and bites down on the mans leg, the pair pull from opposite sides and Al stares in horror as both arm and leg are ripped apart from his body.

"Arrrghhh!" Al screams as he cuts them down.

"Randull!" Galiene runs past him, gathering the unconscious man in her arms, she cries over him, angrily staring up at Alfred.

"This is your fault! Why did you leave your position!"

Emeny quickly runs past him, laying her hands on Randull and casting her healing magic. He can only stare, unable to say anything. Dully, he notices Gilbert stock past him, heartlessly stabbing the beasts through the heart with his Fire Blade, not looking at him. The death cries of the creatures do nothing to sooth them..

* * *

He paces in the waiting chamber as his fate is decided. Randull, thankfully, survived the attack. But he'll never be the same again... He can no longer be a knight, not with his injuries.

He continues pacing... The King and high court have been deliberating on his fate for some time now. Gilbert's in there too, as key witness.

He walks the length of the chamber again and again...

They're going to kill him, he's sure... Disobedience is bad enough, but he almost got Randull killed! That's a death sentence for sure. So the only question now is... How are they going to do it?

He could run... But he's not a coward, and he's willing to pay the price for what he's done...

Besides, where would he go? He'd be a criminal, a wanted man. The southern kingdoms would eat him alive for that, be it for a bounty or simply hatred. West is basically suicide and he doesn't think he could handle the months at sea to reach the eastern continent. And north is... well the less said about there the better. Not to mention his only remaining family is here. So no, no running...

More pacing... then...

"Jones." An attendant says as they swing open the doors.

Silently, he follows them up to the throne room, where his fate is waiting.

Glares and looks of disappointment follow him as he makes his way across the room to stand before his King.

"Alfred..." The old man says tiredly, voice not hiding his disappointment in him.

"My lord." Still, he bows his head and kneels. Even if he's going to die, he still has his senses about him. The King sighs heavily.

"What you have done, it can never be undone. But, perhaps it _can_ be forgiven." He snaps his head up at that.

"Sir Randull has given his view on the matter and, with Gilbert's account of the event, we have come to a decision."

This is it...

"For your crimes of disobedience, and endangering a fellow Knight, you shall be stripped of your knighthood. But, for your actions of protecting your fellow man, and by the good graces of your bloodline, you shall _not_ be executed on this day."

He gets to live...

"However, a punishment must be given, and so, it has been decided. You, Alfred Feral Jones the third, will henceforth, be tasked with the sole duty of guarding the Solace Fort, in the Ivory Expanse. And you will remain there, until your days end, or until you discover your true calling."

"Uh..." He's not sure how to respond to this. He gets to live but... He's basically been exiled...

"You have until sundown tomorrow to prepare, then, you will ride out to the fort. From there, you'll be in the hands of fate." With that, he's dismissed and his world crumbles around him...

* * *

Two years he's been guarding this damned fort, and he hates it. There's nothing but ice and snow in this crappy perpetual winter. Not to mention that when he first got here, the place was falling apart. So he's been stuck doing a one man repair job while he sits here in the cold, draughty ruin that is his new home for the rest of his life. He's definitely going to die young out here. At least he's managed to repair most of the outside, so less of the cold gets in now. The first few months were a living hell, but now it's at least bearable. To think, he finally managed to become a knight —something he'd been working towards his whole life— one of the Kings guard! And he lost it all in a single day.

Now instead of being in a bustling city, he's all alone. The nearest form of civilisation is a village three days ride from here, and the nearest town of any use is five days. Here, he has to hunt for his food or travel to town to barter if he needs something in particular.

Standing out on the battlements, he looks across the endless expanse of white. Trees dot the horizon, the edge of the Frost Forest and beyond them, the Quivering Mountains. He sighs as he leans upon the cold stone. He misses home, his brother... The days when he was sure he'd become a hero, a _true_ hero of the people... Even the armour he once had has been bartered away, now, he wears a much older suit, worn and rusty in places when he first got it. Though, he was quite surprised to find it holds a reinforcement spell bound into the metal itself. The blue strips of cloth at his sides, tied to his belt, are now the only think he has left from his home. Though they do not bear the crest, they are at least the colour of his family's sigil.

Well, enough moping, it's time for him to go check his traps, see if he's caught anything, maybe if he's lucky he'll find a good meal.

* * *

And that's how he ended up here. Mindlessly wandering through the forest checking his traps, the smell of his recent success, an Emerald Antelope, must have drawn the wolf's attention. What ever the reason, the result is still the same. The beast made to attack him, caught off guard, he had desperately swung his sword back, striking the wolf in the side. But that was were his luck ended. The beast crying out in pain and pulled back. Angered by the injury, it planted it's feet and raised its head up, letting out an ethereal howl. He realises now it's a snow wolf, and not just anyone, but the giant, magic wielding kind. Alfred stupidly stared rather than running as wind wiped up around the wolf, spiralling outwards, in an instant, Alfred found himself caught in a blizzard, a total white out.

So, survival instincts finally kicking in, he ran. And ran and ran and ran. Until, he ran right off a drop, falling several feet into the snow bank below. Groaning he rolled over, only for a massive bolder to drop down on top of him, pushed over the edge by the wolf and pinning him.

And so here he is, about to die at the hands of a very smug wolf.

* * *

 **Authors notes:** Backstory time! So basically Al you fucked up... big time...

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	3. A deal

"What?! Do you think this is funny?"

' _ _Why, yes. I do.__ '

A voice floats through his mind, but it is not his own.

He stares.

"Wait, What?!"

No... no... not a voice, that can't have been. It must have been the wind... right?

"Did... did you just talk?"

The wolf only tilts its head, sizing him up no doubt.

"Haha, just my imagination." He sighs, dropping his head back into the snow and closing his eyes.

' _ _Are you really so prepared to die human? And here I thought you might have been a bit more fun. Though I must admit, I didn't know of any human that can speak wolf.__ '

The voice returns, sounding just as smug as before. He snaps his eyes open and stares up at the wolf.

"Wait, can... can you understand me?"

The wolf frowns down at him.

' _ _Your speaking wolf. Of course I can understand you.__ ' It —he?— grumpily replies.

"But... I'm not..."

' _ _You are. Human are you such a fool as to not know the tongue in which you speak? Though it matters not. I'll be having you as my next meal now, so do shut up while I kill you.__ '

"No wait!" He cries as the wolf makes to go for his throat, and, oddly, it obeys. As if compelled by his voice, the wolf sits back down and waits.

' _ _What? How...__ ' It questions, looking a strange mix of annoyed and confused.

Not one to question his luck, Alfred quickly tries to think of a way out of his predicament. Though, when he comes up short he decides to just let his mouth run and hope he says something of use.

"You can't kill me!"

' _ _And why not? You pose no danger to me now.__ '

"Because!... Because I'm stuck under this rock see? You can't get me under here, you'll only get like, my head. And is that really worth the effort?"

The wolf gives him an odd look, as if asking if he really is this dumb.

' _ _I trapped you under there, I can easily get you out. So yes, I'd say it__ is __worth the effort.__ '

"Is it really though? I mean, I'm in all this armour. It'll be really hard to eat me with all this on."

The wolf huffs, the strong stench of dog breath invading his senses as a result.

' _ _I could easily rip that from you.__ ' As if to prove it's point, the wolf lays one of it's large paws on the small piece of his chest plate still visible from under the rock. Digging it's claws in, it rips of the piece protecting the front of his neck. The sound of claws on metal fill his ears as he watches the piece be flung away by the wolf. It huff smugly over him.

' _ _See?__ ' It's voice drawls in his mind.

"Okay, yeah, your right, yeah." He's rambling, he need's to find a way out of this __now.__

The wolf sniffs him at his now more exposed neck, snout crinkling at his unwashed smell. But can you blame him? Living on his own with no one around, yeah, he may go a __little__ while between baths, cause you know. Have you tried boiling your own bath water every day? It's exhausting, even more so when you first have to go out and collect buckets for freshly fallen snow to melt. But in this instance, his lack of personal hygiene might just be his saving grace.

' _ _Urgh!__ ' The voice makes a distinct gagging sound as the wolf backs off.

' _ _Human you are__ disgusting _ _! God, the__ smell __of you!__ '

Alfred latches onto his chance like a drowning man to a piece of drift wood in the open sea.

"Well you really don't want to eat me then. Just imagine how bad I taste if this is what I smell like."

The wolf gives him another look. Not sizing him up, so much as, if asking itself if the smell and taste are worth it. Apparently they are.

' _ _Rancid smell or not, your still the first,__ fresh, __sizeable prey I've caught in__ months. __And I'll be damned if I just let you go. This may have escaped your notice human, but I'm__ ** **starving****.'

The wolf's mouth opens, drool dripping down on his cheek as it lowers its head over him.

A single, saving thought enters his head at this.

"I can get you more food!"

The wolf pauses, so close to his neck he can feel it's fur and hot breath. Taking this as a good sign he continues.

"I can! I have a fort! All to myself too! The larder is full! All kinds of meat, enough to get through the winter!"

He pants, desperately hoping the wolf will believe him. Miraculously, it works. The beast backs off, enough to look him in the eye.

' _ _...the__ whole __winter?__ ' It asks, eye's lighting up and Al franticly nods.

It looks longingly at his neck before making it's decision.

' _ _Very well, human. I shall spare you. And in return__ you __will provide me with food until winters end.__ '

"Yeah, of course!"

Satisfied, the wolf moves to his side. Standing before the boulder, it rears up, firmly placing it's front paws on the large rock and pushes, rolling it off of Alfred. Now free, he quickly scrambles to his feet, searching for his sword.

' _ _Looking for this?__ ' He looks over to see the wolf standing on his sword, ' _ _I am no fool.__ ' It snarls angrily, pressing down on the blade, it snaps it in half.

Now weaponless, Alfred swallows nervously.

' _ _You__ will __feed me human. Or__ I __will feed on__ you.'

Alfred nods numbly, looking back up at the drop. There's no way he can climb straight back up. And in this blizzard, he can't tell where he is.

"Okay. But,Um... I can't exactly see where we are right now. I won't be able to take you back to my fort in this blizzard."

The wolf tilts it's head and, like before, plants it's feet and howls, only this time ending the blizzard. It looks back at him and seems to smile.

' _ _There, no more blizzard. Now, feed me.__ ' It growls in warning.

And so, that was how Alfred found himself wandering through the woods, with a broken sword, damaged armour, and followed by a wolf back to his home.

Just what has he gotten himself into?

* * *

 ** **Authors notes:**** Good news Alfred, your not dead! Yet... But now you __do__ have a __very__ hungry wolf to feed.

Huge thank you to all my wonderful reviewers and everyone who's favourited and following! They make my day!

I'm going away for a few weeks so I may not update until I'm back, but expect a lot more once I am. I wonder how much I can write on a 13 hour flight?

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	4. Destinies entwined

This... is incredibly awkward...

Alfred looks over to the wolf tailing him only two steps behind. The wolf glares back at him and he looks away again. But...

He stops, turning to the wolf and reaching into one of the pouches on his belt.

"Wait, before we go any further. Your hurt..." He says, eyeing the bleeding wound. He pulls the only bandages he has out and steps forward, but the wolf growls, making him stop.

' _ _And who's fault is__ that?'

He raises his hands, hoping to calm the beast, "Yeah, I know. But you can't keep walking around like that. Here, let me help." He tries approaching again, but the creature only becomes more defensive, it's growls increasing.

' _ _Like I need help from__ you! _ _A__ human.' Even if it says this, Al can see it wincing in pain as it moves.

"But you'll bleed out like that! And what am I going to do? You broke my sword, I'm basically defenceless."

The wolf huffs, wincing again.

' _ _Fine...__ '

Smiling, Al quickly moves over. He looks the wound over first, it's deep, but he never hit anything vital it seems. He's not sure if he should be happy or sad about that. So instead, he picks up some of the fresh snow and rubs it in the wound to clean it. The beast flinches and growls at the touch.

"Sorry, but I gotta clean it."

' _ _With snow?__ ' It drawls at him, ' _ _That is__ not __how you clean a wound.__ '

"Well yeah, but I don-" He starts to say, but the wolf ignores him, lying down.

'This _ _, is how you clean a wound.__ ' The wolf snarks, bending round, it starts to lick the wound clean.

"Ah." With all it's talking into his head, he somehow forgot that this is a __wolf__ , a big dog really if he thinks about it. Of course that's how it'd think to tend to it's wounds. Once done it looks back round at him.

' _ _See?__ ' Al nods, not wanting to annoy it by telling it how unclean a tongue is. But, sure enough, the blood, dirt and melting snow are all gone and, he does have to admit, it does look better now. But still, he can see it's still bleeding, if only slightly now.

"Alright, you cleaned it. Now will you let me wrap it?"

A huff is the only reply he gets. Taking that as a yes, he gets to work.

XoxoxoxoxoxoX

Well, now he feels at least a __little__ less guilty. But he had to use all the bandages he had just to make the wrapping fit around it's large body. On the plus side though...

"Sweet! It's still here!" In all the excitement, he had almost forgot about the antelope. Though covered in snow, it's emerald horns are still visible.

"Alright. Time to make camp for the night." He decides. The sun is going down fast, and he's found his kill again, so this is the prefect place to spend the night.

' _ _Camp?__ ' The voice asks, sounding confused as the wolf eyes the antelope.

"Yeah, you know. Make a fire and settle in for the night, get some sleep." He explains of handedly as he drags the antelope out of his trap and over to a tree.

' _ _You plan to sleep? Out here, in the open?__ '

"Well, where else am I gonna sleep?" He asks as he sets to clearing away the snow by the tree's roots and building a fire from the sticks he finds.

' _ _A cave preferably, but a borrow would be acceptable if big enough.__ '

"Well you can go find a borrow but I'm staying right here."

Pulling the flint stones he always carries out, he starts the fire, bathing in it's warmth.

"Aaaahhh. Much better." He looks up to see the wolf watching him warily, "What?"

' _ _You created flames with out casting...__ '

Al blinks at that, coming to a realisation. The wolf... it doesn't know what a camp is, or making fires without magic...

"You... you've never been around humans before have you?"

' _ _Of course not! Why would I want to hang around such filthy creatures as you?!__ ' It grumbles, but Al get's the feeling it's embarrassed about it's lack of knowledge of the human realm, which, actually says a lot.

"Are you...from the Quivering mountains?" That would certainly explain a thing or two.

' _ _So What if I am?__ ' The wolf huffs, pawing at the carcass.

"That's amazing..." He's awed, the mountains are one of the hardest places to live, no human has ever been beyond the foot hills and lived. Tales of great beast living there used to fill his childhood. But... that does raise the question...

"But, if your from the mountains, why are you here?" The wolf huffs, glaring at him.

' _ _Whatever you know of the mountains human, assume that it is wrong. They are hell to all that live there.__ ' It turns away from him, taking a large bite out of the antelope.

"Wha- Hey! That's mine!" He tries to pull it away, but the beast sinks it's teeth in and holds it down with it's paws, ripping it's frozen mouthful free. White face smeared with blood, it smirks at him.

' _ _No,__ you __promised me food and this,__ ' it presses it's paw down on the carcass, ' _ _is food.__ '

Well, there goes his plan to sell most of it at the market on his next trip to town. He shrugs.

"Guess we can share." But the beast growls at him when he reaches for the thing.

' _ _No, this is__ mine.'

"Hey, Hey come on now! I said I'd feed you, I didn't say I'd give you __everything.__ Besides, I'll not eat anywhere __near__ what you will." But the wolf doesn't relent, so he tries a different tactic.

"Look, I'm hungry too you know, and if I die of starvation, you won't get all the food I promised you." That seams to work as the beast lets up on it's hold of his kill.

* * *

Quarrel sorted, the pair settle in, Alfred using a small knife to cut pieces free and cook them over the fire, while the wolf settles for the far more brutal approach of tearing it apart, piece by piece. It wasn't kidding about being starving. In the end he had a little over a shoulder to himself, while he watches the wolf strip the carcass down to the bones, and even those it munched on. He was at least able to salvage the horns, pure emerald and, thankfully, inedible. But they'll fetch a nice price at the market.

Snow and fur soaked in blood, the wolf looks quite pleased as it lies down, cleaning itself. So this is going to be his life now? Sharing the majority of his trap kills with a seriously hungry wolf. Great...

"Hey, so do you have a name? I mean if I'm gonna be stuck with you for the winter, I'll need something to call you other than Wolf." It looks over at him, looking surprise by the question.

 _'_ _ _Yes.__ ' The voice floats through his mind, which he's somehow already become accustomed to, ' _ _Under the full moons light, I was named Arthur.'__

Alfred blinks, falling back to lean heavily against the tree, steadying himself. He's not sure why, but if felt like something, just, passed __through__ __him__. A power he's never felt before, now pulses beneath his skin, flowing through his veins.

' _ _And you human? Do you have a name?__ '

"Yes." He gasps out. Something inside him is telling him to answer. Almost like an... _ _urge__...pulling at the edges of his consciousness, he's almost __too__ aware as he gives his answer.

"By the setting sun, I was named Alfred Feral Jones the third, first son of Jacob, heir to the house of Kalmora."

He gasps, the power within him growing impossibly strong, pulsating, his heart races, it's too much! He falls to his side, across from him he sees Arthur too, stumble even as he's lying down, as if a force has shoved him across the snow. He watches, feeling strangely not in control of his body as he reaches out, the wolf doing the same. Hand and paw touch, a light of brilliant blue and shining green mix, then, darkness...

* * *

 **Authors notes:** I'm back! And I didn't die so that's a plus. Thanks for being patient, now expect a lot more updates from here on out.

But aww, look they're getting along, wonder how long that'll last. And can I just say, I __love__ wolf Arthur, he's so snarky. But, a pact has been made, whether Alfred realises it or not (probably not...)

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	5. My home, your food

The first thing Alfred was aware of when he woke was the freezing cold, seeping in through his armour and chilling him to the bone. So, nothing new there... what __was__ new was the odd throb of pain in his side and a feeling of power coursing through him, quietly, as if asleep. The second thing he noticed was the sound of a low growl, footsteps crunching the snow around him as something moves, circling him. He remains still, pretending to still be asleep as he subtly reaches for his sword, waiting for the right moment to strike...

 _'_ _ _I know your awake,__ get up!' A voice barks in his mind, snow landing on his face, he jolts up.

Blinking up at the wolf standing over him, "Oh shit!" He cries, scrambling away and grasps for his sword, only to be met with air.

"Wha?" He questions, confused, then, he suddenly remembers.

"Ooooh."

' _ _Yes, Oh. Now tell me, what did you just__ do?' The wolf — _ _Arthur,__ his mind suddenly reminds him, as if he's unable to think of him as anything else—glares.

"Me?" He wonders. He doesn't remember doing anything.

' _ _Do not lie to me, hu-hu-h-__ Alfred,' Arthur spits out his name, oddly seeming unable to call him anything but his name, as he is. ' _ _I am a Snow Wolf of the Quivering Mountains, I know__ magic __when I see it. Now. Tell. Me. What. You. Did!__ ' He bites out the demand, anger evident in every word.

"Magic? Me? That's impossible, I don't know any. I have no natural propensity for the stuff. Never have, never will."

Arthur stares, his growl intensifying.

' _ _Then how do you explain__ this?' Arthur raises his back leg, ripping the bandage free from his side and revealing his... healed wound?

"What? Do you normally heal that fast?"

' _ _No, you idiot! This was you!__ '

"It can't have been... I'm telling you, I don't __know__ any magic!" Al shakes his head, desperately trying to convince the other.

Arthur pauses, then paws at the snow, seeming uncomfortable for some reason.

'... _ _And somehow I__ know __your telling the truth...__ '

The pair stare at each other for a brief moment before quickly looking away. The situation is beginning to seriously weird Alfred out. Just a short while ago, he couldn't tell __anything__ Wolf Arthur was thinking, his mannerisms, his thought process, everything about him was a complete mystery, besides his plan to eat him that is.

But now... it's as if he can see inside his head, he can tell Arthur is thinking this through, every possibility is being considered and discarded at such a high speed it's making Al dizzy. And not just that, but that power he felt before seems to grow stronger the closer Arthur gets to him. It pulsates within him, growing and waning with Arthur's anger, it's as if he can... _ _feel him__.

That... sounds __so__ wrong...

Arthur suddenly looks back up at him.

' _ _Well, even if you__ did __do something, I guess I can't complain. I can feel a power within me again, one I've not felt since leaving the Mountains, perhaps even__ stronger.'

Alfred nods, knowing how he feels, he just wonders what it means...

"Well, anyway, we should probably get going now." He decides to change topic, not wanting to linger on this any longer.

Arthur nods.

' _ _Lead the way.__ '

* * *

Home, or what passes for it. The old fort is relatively small compared to others built around the capital, but unlike those which were built to defend against invaders, his is only a glorified outpost at the edge of the kingdoms territory. The gray stone of the eight story tall fort barely stands out from the endless white surrounding it.

"Well, this is it..." Alfred tries to break the awkward silence between then.

Neither of them have said a word since heading out again, and he's beginning to wonder how they'll possibly be able to function around each other for the entire winter like this.

Arthur eyes the fort and open expanse around them warily. From whatever weird connection they now have, Alfred can tell he's been uncomfortable since they left the forest, the lack of cover setting him on edge. He gets the feeling that this is the furthest he's ever been from the mountains.

' _ _This, is your home?__ ' He asks, looking around and sniffing the air.

"Yuuuup." He draws the word out, popping the p at the end, and receives an annoyed look from the other for it, "This is as good as it gets out here."

Arthur slows behind him, stopping before the entrance as Alfred pushed the heavy large oak doors open. In all his time out here, Alfred hasn't seen one other person come anywhere near the fort, so he sees no reason to build a lock into the doors.

Once inside, he heads straight for the hearth, quickly setting the fire going. He sighs in relief at the warmth. He looks back across the large hall, to the open doors, and sees Arthur still standing outside.

"Hey, you coming in or what?" He asks as he comes back over, he needs to close the doors if he wants to have a chance of warming this place up a bit.

Arthur pokes his head over the threshold, eyeing the place cautiously.

' _ _This is what a man-made structure looks like?__ '

"Yeah. Well, I mean this __is__ a fort, so it's not exactly meant to be very homey, but I do what I can. Now are you coming in or staying out, cause I'd like to close these doors and get warmed up if you don't mind."

Arthur gives the place one more wary look before coming in, Al quickly pulling the doors shut behind him, bounding back over to the fire. He sits and watches Arthur as he moves about. The wolf sniffs every inch of the place, walking slowly as he looks about, claws clacking on the stone floor with every careful step. His large size made more apparent by the sparse furnishings of the hall and the tall walls, making it easy for him to move about unobstructed.

' _ _This place. I have never seen a humans home before.__ '

Alfred can tell he's both awed and simultaneously let down by it all, though he's not sure what he was expecting.

"Well, make yourself at home. Just don't pee on anything or whatever. I don't want you stinking this place up."

Arthur scrunches his face up at that.

' _ _You are hardly one to talk to me about smell, and that is just disgusting. Why would I pee in a dwelling?__ '

"I don't know," He shrugs, "ain't that what wolves do, to mark their territory or something?"

' _ _Only at the edges of our territory, not in our homes, that's just filthy.__ '

"Well, Whatever." Al sighs, turning back to the fire.

He feels Arthur come up behind him, huffing warm air down his neck and causing his hair to flutter about his face.

' _ _What do you think your doing? You promised me food remember?__ '

"What?" Al tips his head back, blinking up at the wolf, "But you just ate that whole antelope yesterday. You __can't__ still be hungry."

Alfred gapes as Arthur gives him an unimpressed look, their odd bond informing him of the wolfs ravenous hunger, an appetite for meat filling his mind.

"Okay...guess you are then."

' _ _Yes, I am.__ '

Sighing, but seeing no way around this, Alfred gets up.

"Alright, Wait here. I'll bring some stuff up."

With that, he grabs a torch, lighting it in the fire, and heads down to the pantry. The 'pantry' as he calls it, is actually the small underground dungeon. Given how few people ever come out this far north, he couldn't imagine ever having to use the three tiny cells, so, he repurposed the place. Now the freezing cold down here that was no doubt meant to chill prisoners, serves as the perfect way to preserve food for a long time. Summer here is barely any different than the winters, both are unbelievably cold, long, miserable, and make Alfred wish he could learn some time magic to go back and change the mistake he made that day.

He carefully makes his way down the frozen steps, torch lighting his way down into the darkness, past ventures have taught him to take his time. Once down, he uses the firelight to see the three cells. Each are filled with barrels of food, more than enough to last him through the winter. This was going to be his last venture out to his traps before he hunkered down for another four months of hellish solitude, but now it seems he'll have a companion this time.

"Geez, I must be starved of social interaction if I'm considering __Arthur__ as a companion..."

He voices his thoughts as he moves to the nearest cell. This one is filled with five barrels of salted deer and Recovl meat. If it's good enough for him, he doesn't think Arthur will complain too much, with how hungry he was giving off he'll probably eat just about anything. Balancing torch and barrel, he makes his way back up.

"Okay, you want food, I got plenty of it." He announces as he comes back into the hall, swinging the barrel down between them.

Arthur, who had taken to lying by the fire, stands and approaches him, sniffing the air, it doesn't take long for the wolf to start drooling, eyes lighting at the smell.

' _ _What is it?__ ' His voice excitedly asks in his mind.

Alfred smirks, "Salted deer. Good stuff, and cheap, keeps well too."

He explains as he pulls the lid from the wooden container, slabs of meat and bone of various sizes can be seen filling the insides to the brim. Arthur licks his lips, before, without warning, he jumps at the barrel, knocking it from Alfred's hold and causing it to fall over. It doesn't roll far, as within seconds Arthur has it pinned and is snatching up the spilled meat, before quickly going onto the remaining contents of the barrel. He can just about get his snout in, using his tongue to reach, and smacking the container around, he easily gets every last slab of preserved meat.

Alfred stares, as what could easily have been several weeks worth of food, is gone in mere minutes.

Arthur sits back, having licked the barrel clean, only a few lager bones remain.

' _ _That was delicious.__ ' His eyes are practically sparkling with delight as he licks his lips clean, ' _ _Another three of though's should fill me right up.__ '

"T-three?!" Al splutters, aghast at the wolfs insatiable hunger.

Arthur fixes him with an unimpressed look.

' _ _Yes, three. You said you have__ more __than enough food to last the winter. So I shouldn't feel hungry for the next four months at least.__ '

"More than enough for __me.__ For a human, I had no idea you could eat so much at once! You just ate a good two or three __weeks__ worth, there's noway I have enough to keep feeding you like that through the entire winter!" He exclaims. At this rate, he'll be eaten out of house and home in under a week!

Arthur gives him a sharp look, growling lowly, he stalks threateningly towards him.

' _ _You. Will. Feed. Me. Or I will eat you right now, and then have the rest of your food stores to myself.__ '

He warns dangerously, and just to run his point home that he's not joking, he springs on Al, pinning the man to the ground, growling, with teeth bared above him.

"Okay, Okay! I'll feed you, Gods!" He cries, and Arthur backs off, letting him up.

Resigning to his fate, Alfred repeats the journey down twice more, bringing up the oldest of his stores, whole fermented Calamk and frost beaver, just to spite Arthur with the horrible taste of the stuff. But his plan for revenge fails as the wolf eats it all just as eagerly.

Now finally sated, the Snow Wolf settles by the fire, quite content. Al sighs as he joins him, finally removing his armour. He considered keeping it on, but, with how peaceful Arthur is now, he doubts the wolf will try to attack him again.

Armour removed, he finally can pull his undershirt up to look at his side. The pain from before has long since ebbed into a quite throb, barely noticeable now. Twisting he frowns down at his side, using his hands to pull the skin to see better.

He stares at the sight he's met with.

Where once there had been only pale skin, no longer bronzed under the summer sun of his childhood home in the capital, he sees a marking he never had before imprinted in his flesh. Blue and green spiral together in mixing shades, growing fainter the further from the centre. Six distinct strokes of colour are set in a ring, the top three blue the bottom ones green, the ends of the strokes spiral in on themselves, shrinking and fading to nothing. At the centre it's as if someone had dropped two dyes into water, twining together, freezing them at the point of mixing and then imbedded it into his side, he's never seen anything like it.

Just what is going on here...

* * *

 ** **Authors notes:**** So Arthur is suspicious and Alfred is clueless, who would have guessed. The pair finally make it to the fort and Arthur proceeds to quite literally eat Al out of house and home. Poor boy's going to have to find some more food and fast if he doesn't want to get eaten himself. And if anyone's interested, check out my tumblr were I've posted some art of the last scene.

Also bonus scene:

Alfred shifted from foot to foot thinking. The space before the hearth, a raised ledge that quickly becomes wonderfully warm from the fire, is where he'd normally sleep. He had spent quite some time saving up to by the fur skins he uses for his bed, but now, the space is completely taken over and his precious bed hidden beneath the wolf in his home. Arthur for his part, doesn't seem to notice or care about his predicament as he rolls onto his side, warming his back by the flames. So Alfred is left to decide, spend the night cold, or share with a wolf more than twice his size. It's a tough choice...

Arthur cracks an eye open to glare as Alfred climbs up onto the ledge, squishing up beside him. Neither say a word as he moves, quickly realising the only way this is going to work is if he lies on the wolf and so, silently he moves over, lying his back against Arthur's. Come morning, neither will acknowledge that Arthur had rolled over during the night, nor that Al had also turned into the wolf, sleeping peacefully in his paws, head buried in surprisingly soft fur.

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	6. Don't wake sleeping wolves

**Chapter warning: blood**

* * *

Alfred sighed contently as he woke, oddly warm. Strange, since the fire should have gone out during the night, so he should be waking into freezing cold making him scramble to restart the flames. His bed also seems... softer, and is moving?

He slowly opens his eyes and immediately freezes. He sleeping on __Arthur,__ he sleeping on the __gods damn__ __wolf!__

As carefully as he can, like his life depends on it —which it might just— he slides away, at least enough to make it not seem as if he was just sleeping on the other. Though doing so returns him to the cold which he so hates, he's used to it.

Arthur stirs slightly, but thankfully, doesn't wake. Al sighs in relief and quietly turns to start up the fire again. As he works his mind wanders.

If Arthur continues to insist on eating so much each day, he'll only last about another week before his stores are completely emptied. That thought alone is terrifying, he's not had a completely empty pantry since he first was sent here, he's always been careful to have at least __one__ barrel full at all times.

If he doesn't get more food, then Arthur is sure to be done with it all and kill him. But there's no way he can catch enough in his traps, even in what passes for summer here he'd never kill that much. And now that winter is setting in strong, his chances of success are basically zero, and that's even if he __could__ go out and hunt. Something he has no hope of achieving given he'd freeze to death if he spent too long out there.

So hunting is out of the question. His only hope would be to buy enough, but he doubts he could afford that... So no hunting and buying is limited... he's __so__ dead...

Maybe he could convince Arthur to slow down, or at least spare him...

He sighs knowing neither are very likely but it's his only option if he wants to keep breathing. Turning, he regards the wolf that has a hold over his life now.

Sleeping, he looks almost peaceful, perhaps even nice. Al frowns at the beast, wondering about him, this close, he begins to notice things that he hadn't from afar. His fur, which he had thought to be all white, actually has very light blonde markings. So light in colour, he can only just make them out sitting right next to him. The markings, found across his shoulders and down his face, fade seamlessly into the white, the black of his nose and the pads of his paws standing out. And Al knows he's strong too, muscles hidden beneath his thick coat, claws sharp and deadly. Plus, he's one of the few beasts of the world that are classed as Magia Bestiam. Magia are rare, powerful, and not to be messed with, yet here he is, making nice with one hoping it'll spare his life in the long run.

He stares at the wolfs face, wondering why he doesn't feel like he should be afraid of him, why he seems to just __know__ that somehow, it'll work out. He blinks as his eyes catch on a scar, just below Arthur's right eye, running down the side of his face. Stupidly, he let's his curiosity get the better of him and scoots closer. The scar is not alone, as he hovers inches above Arthur's face he can see another two also follow the line of the first. Using his hand, Al gently traces the scars with his fingers, eye to jaw.

It's here, with his right arm outstretched, three fingers on the wolfs face that he realises what a dumb move he's made. Arthur, startled awake by the contact, snaps at him, catching Al's hand up to his wrist in his mouth and biting down, __hard.__

" _ _Aaaarrrrggghhh!__ " He cries out in agony, nerves screaming in pain, as he feels teeth sink down into his arm, tearing his flesh and spilling his blood.

Arthur stares down at him, a rage in his eyes that truly terrifies Alfred, before he seems to recognise who's arm it is that he's currently trying to rip off, releasing him. He sits up as Al yanks his arm back, cradling his shredded wrist and hand to his chest. He tries to calm his racing heart as he looks around desperately. He's losing a hell of a lot of blood, and he doesn't even want to __look__ at the mangled mess he's holding, but he needs to fix it and __fast,__ if he doesn't want to bleed out. But he doesn't have any bandages, having used the last of them before on Arthur. He's starting to feel light headed as he grabs for his discarded shirt, hurriedly wrapping it around his bleeding arm, blood completely soaking it in seconds. The shirt is red, his chest, his other hand, the bed skins and furs, Arthur's face, there all red with his blood. He knows he's doomed when darkness begins to enter his vision, desperately he looks to the only other around for help, Arthur, but he passes out before he can beg to be saved...

* * *

So Alfred is very surprised when he wakes up only a few hours later. Blinking, he momentarily wonders if he died and went to heaven, after all, he's warm, comfortable and his bed is lovely and soft and... moving? Wait, hasn't this already happened?

He looks around and freezes, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu, as he realises he's lying on Arthur.

"Uh..." He blanks, not sure what to say, what even happened?

Arthur shifts, looking around at him.

' _ _Oh. So your awake. Good, now you can feed me.__ ' He says so casually Alfred is taken aback.

"Feed you? But my arm is... fine?" True enough, he's uninjured.

' _ _Hmm? Oh, it healed.__ ' The wolf supplies unhelpfully.

"Healed? __How?__ Did you..." He trails off, somehow knowing the answer without having to hear it.

' _ _No. Well, nothing__ intentionally __anyway. But...__ ' He looks hard at the knight, ' _ _I did__ feel _ _... something. This new power within me, it responded to your injury on it's own,__ it __healed you, not me.__ '

"What? That doesn't even make any sense, how can __magic__ act on it's own? I thought all magic required training and masses of conscious thought to be preformed."

' _ _It does.__ ' The seriousness of Arthur's voice in his mind rings like a bell, waking him up fully.

' _ _Something is going on here, but I don't know what, and I__ hate __that. Every time I think of you, I can only call you by name, not what you are. And...I...__ don't __want to kill you anymore. I've tried to think about it but now it only seems...wrong to.__ '

Alfred nods along to all of this.

"Yeah, I get what your saying, but I have no idea what's going on here." He stops, thinking for a moment.

"But...I __might__ know someone who can help figure this out."

' _ _Another human?__ ' The wolf questions suspiciously causing the knight to roll his eyes.

"Well, Yeah, obviously. Not like I know any other wolves or anything that I can ask about all this weird shit."

Arthur growls, ' _ _Don't get snide with me.__ '

"Yeah, Yeah. So what do you say we go find the guy and ask him?" Arthur considers this.

' _ _As much as I hate the idea of seeking out more__ humans, __I hate not knowing more. Not knowing something is what gets you killed. Alright,__ ' he nods to Alfred, ' _ _let's go find this other human.__ '

"Great!"

' _ _But first,__ ' Arthur somehow smirks with his wolf face an him, ' _ _You still need to feed me breakfast.__ '

Alfred groans, but heads off anyway.

Neither of them knew it at the time, but this decision would change their lives, __forever__ , shaping their future into what they are destined to become.

* * *

 ** **Authors notes:**** Alfred, ever heard the saying; let sleeping dogs (or rather here, wolves) lie? Nope didn't think so. And a little hint to Arthur's past, those aren't the only scars he has. So what's going on? You'll just have to wait and see. And who is Al thinking might help?

Well, like I said before about this originally being abandoned, this is now as far as I had planned out (apart for a few plot points), but I don't want to end it here so I'll keep going as see where this story goes.

In other news, dumb me finnaly figured out how to work the line breaks on my tablet so huzza!

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	7. Path to the beginning

"Alright, I think that's everything." Alfred nods at the supplies and armour set out on the only table in the hall.

' _ _Oh good, so__ now __we can leave?__ ' Arthur huffs from across the room, annoyed that the knight is taking so long. He'll never understand these humans, why are they so weak that they must wear the skin and fur of others? Or strengthen their hide with metal? Though, he can at least appreciate the boys plan to bring food.

Food is always good to have.

"Well __soooorrrryyy.__ But __some__ of us don't have a massive fur coat to keep warm out in the freezing cold." He snaps back, quickly getting annoyed with Arthur's general attitude.

Arthur, he's learning, thinks he's better than him in all ways, better than anybody really, especially humans since they're so weak, or so he thinks. Just because he has armour to protect himself, furs to stay warm and a sword to defend and attack with, all humans must be weak because they don't have these things naturally. And, yeah sure, on their own, most people wouldn't stand a chance out here, but if humans were so weak then they would have all been kill long ago. What Arthur doesn't understand is the ingenuity of mankind, the ability to __survive__ in places were they would normally die is what makes them great, at least, that's what Alfred thinks.

He sighs happily as he pulls his armour on, having spent most of the day repairing the piece the wolf broke before, and grabs his sword. Not the Sky Blade from before, that's beyond his skills to fix, but one of the many others he has stored in the tiny armoury. He looks his sword over, an Earth Blade, not his preferred weapon of choice, but he's still pretty handy with this one. He'll just have to remember that he'll be slower, but hit a lot harder. Sheathing his sword, he moves onto packing the supplies he gathered into a sack. Food rations are of most importance, now more than ever with Arthur's ravenous hunger, water, bandages made from some old cloth he found lying around, what little coin he has, the emerald horns and most importantly, his map.

Slinging the bag over his shoulder he turns back to Arthur.

"But yes, we can go now."

' _ _Finally.__ ' He drawls, standing and following Alfred out.

* * *

Normally it would be a two day ride to the nearest town, but sadly, Al's horse, who he'd had since before his exile, died four months ago, the cold was simply to much for her. Now, it's a four day walk at best through the snow.

He shivers as he pulls his fur cloak closer around him, the ice cold wind whipping about him, numbing his face and hands. Did he mention he __hates__ the cold?

Arthur, thanks to his thick fur, is completely unfazed by the freezing temperatures. Even as they walk, it's clear the wolf is far better suited for these climates than the knight, who's iron clad feet sink deep into the snow as they walk. The wolf's paws, despite being larger and heavier, don't sink to even half that of Alfred's.

Arthur smugly walks ahead as Al struggles onwards. But by his eighth fall flat on his face, the wolfs pleasure quickly turns to annoyance.

' _ _How can you be__ so __useless?__ ' He asks as he pauses, looking back, tilting his head as he watches the knight pick himself up once more.

"Shut it. I __hate__ this place. I'm not made for snow like you." He snaps, angry at both himself and Arthur's condescending attitude.

The wolf cocks his head more at this.

' _ _Then why are you here?__ ' Arthur's voice is surprisingly gentle and full of curiosity as he asks this, catching the knight off guard.

He huffs as he knocks more snow of himself and continues trudging forward.

"Because I fucked up." He mumbles, not wanting to talk about back then.

Arthur pauses and sends him a perplexed look.

' _ _You mated, upwards?__ ' He asks, voice full of confusion, not knowing such a feat was possible, or how that relates to him being here.

Al spins around to give the wolf an equally bewildered look.

"What? __No__! It's an expression!" He exclaims, waving his arms about trying to convey the meaning of his words, though Arthur only seems to become even more confused by the wild movements.

' _ _An expression?__ '

"Yeah, it means I messed up."

The wolf frowns at him, ' _ _Then why didn't you just say so?__ '

"Because! Argh," He sighs, turning back to his endless trudging, "forget it."

The wolf watches him for a moment before shaking his head and following on, thinking to himself how strange humans are.

* * *

After nearly a week of walking through the endless white expanse, the pair finally see the edge of town. Arthur, though not liking the openness, was impressed that the knight could navigate his way here. As a wolf, Arthur was able to follow the faint smell of the human settlement, growing stronger the closer they got, but the knight found his way here by only that small piece of what he called a map. As the outline of the town appears on the horizon, Arthur breathes deeply, taking in as much of the scents from the town as he can. Many of the smells are completely new and bewildering to the wolf. He'll never show it, but he's a bit afraid of this new place, a human settlement, he's never been this close to one...

He remembers the warnings of his pack about the dangers of humans.

His pack...

No! He shakes his head and marches forward, determined not to think about that anymore, and almost walks straight into the knight. Alfred turns to look at him from his place in the snow.

"Alright, you wait here." He gestures to the ground as he says this, as if giving a dog a command.

Arthur snarls at that, he is no __dog.__

' _ _Why?__ ' He snaps, glaring suspiciously at the knight, but the bond they now have tells him the answer even as the boy attempts to explain himself.

"Dude, your a __massive__ wolf. The people in town will __freak__ if they see you walk in there. Just stay here and I'll go look for the guy."

It's a good argument he knows but...

Arthur glances around at the open plains of white. To stay out here alone... if he still had his pack...

He huffs and glares harder, using his size to tower over Alfred, trying to make himself look as intimidating as possible.

' _ _No, I can't trust you.__ ' It's a lie, but he'll be damned if he admits how he really feels.

' _ _How do I know you won't just run off, or rally the other humans to attack me unawares?__ '

He watches the knights mouth open and close as he tries to formulate a response. So he lets out a low growl, showing his teeth a bit, just enough to look dangerous as he continues.

' _ _How do I know you don't intend to break our deal?__ '

A threatening step closer is enough to get the response he wants.

"Okay! You can come, geez. I wasn't trying to get away or anything, I just didn't want to freak the towns people out. But, fine. Don't blame me when they start screaming and running at the sight of you, or try to attack you."

' _ _Fine.__ ' He huffs, backing off.

"Just..." Alfred looks him up and down thinking, "stay behind me. And don't do anything threatening. So no growling, or snarling, or glaring, or showing teeth, or anything like that, got it?"

He relaxes his face and dips his head in a nod, which seems to satisfy his companion, as he turns and resumes their walk to town. Arthur hopes the knight can't tell how relieved he is to not be left out in the open.

As they make it into town, he stays close to his human, keeping only a half step behind. The other humans all stare at their approach at first before fleeing into there dwellings, terrified. Screams go up and children as snatched by there parents and pulled away, within seconds the town is completely empty.

This doesn't last long as mere moments later, men dive out there homes, with any weapon they could find. The pair pause in the middle of town as they are confronted by the gathering of frighten townsmen. Pointed at them in shaking hands are a few swords, but most of the objects are unknown to Arthur, and that worries him, not knowing how dangerous they might be.

He wants to stand tall and growl and look as intimidating as he can, but...

Despite his large size, he tries to hide behind the knight and he hates himself for it. In the forest or the mountains he'd have no fear in meeting these people, their he would know the terrain, know how to hide when needed, he could plan how and where to attack from, but here...

Everything is new and unknown to him, he doesn't know where is safe, he can't hide himself in the snow and watch now that he's been seen.

As much as he hates it, Alfred is his only defence here.

From amongst the crowd, a tall man calls out to the knight.

"Al? What is this? Why did you bring that beast here?!"

Arthur thinks the man sounds a bit hysterical, but he can't be certain. He's only really had Alfred to learn human expressions off of, which isn't much. There also not speaking Wolf, so he can't understand what there saying, they could be threatening him or completely afraid. Just in case, he drops his tail and lowers his ears a little, just enough to look like he's not a threat, hoping that these humans can read his body language to know he doesn't mean them any harm, like Alfred told him.

Alfred steps forward, raising his arms out the the group.

"Chill guys. I promise you, Artie ain't going to hurt you. He's cool."

"Artie?" The man asks, looking confused.

The knight nods a bit too enthusiastically, "Yeah! See he's, uh," he looks back at the wolf and, probably seeing the worried look on Arthur's face smiles as he looks back to the men, "well he's a friend."

"That beast, is... your __friend?__ "

The group look between each other, lost for an explanation.

' _ _Alfred what are they saying?__ ' He tries not to sound to worried as he asks this, but he's pretty sure the knight can already tell how he's feeling.

Alfred turns his head to smile at him whispering, "Don't worry." Before looking back to the group.

"Yeah, it's a long story. Look can you put the weapons down? Your kinda making him nervous."

With a look of mass confusion, they all slowly lower the objects in there hands, and Alfred smiles as he feels Arthur breathe a sigh of relief down his back.

"Al, why are you here, with uh, Artie was it?"

"Mhmm. Actually, we're looking for Sadık, have you seen him around?"

"Oh, you just missed him. He left about a few days ago."

"Aww, damn."

Arthur watches curiously as the pair talk. The other humans, apparently having now deemed him not a threat, stare at him. He want's to snarl at them, to make them go away, but he's worried that doing so will agitate them into attacking.

Everything is interrupted however, by a piercing screech from the sky, acting as a trigger for all hell to break loose.

The men all suddenly snatch up their weapons, and group together, forming a tight circle facing outwards, objects raised at the sky.

Alfred too, seems trigger by the call as he draws his sword and looks up to the low clouds.

And Arthur thinks he knows why. That screening was definitely the call of an Aigiddyrn, aerial hunters that like to sweep down from the clouds to take small prey. Though, small is relative here. Arthur knows he has nothing to fear from it, he's much too large, but the humans are definitely the right size for it.

Another screech, and the beast drops down out of the grey clouds directly above the group of men. The beast, all grey skin, long thin legs and taloned claws reaching down attacks the humans. It's large leathery wings flapping as it flies around them. It cries out another trilling caw from it's large teethed beak, as the humans fight back, one managing to land a hit to its legs, but not enough to break its tough hide. The creature swipes the weapon aside with one leg while grabbing at the man with the other, talons sinking into his arm and pulling him off the ground.

"Move!"

Alfred shouts as he dives for the pair, the group quickly parting out of his way. Arthur watches as the knight charges, jumping up and swinging his heavy sword at the Aigiddyrn's leg, severing it between ankle and knee.

It screeches in pain this time as it flies up, now no longer weighed down by its prey, black blood seeping from its severed leg, it flies off into the clouds. The man drops into the snow and grunts as he sits up, watching the beast fly off. The group falls silent as the fight ends.

"Dad!"

The quiet is broken by the cry of a young girl running out to latch onto the injured man, a woman quickly following her.

"Alecia! Get back inside, it's not safe!" She cries as she joins them, desperately grabbing at the girl.

"No, it's fine." Alfred assures them, "That thing won't be coming back here anytime soon."

"You saves me, thank you." The man says awed, offering his hand in thanks.

The knight beams, "Just doing my job."

Arthur is surprised by the way these humans act, relaxing now that the beast is gone, much like a pack would after an attack, but really, he couldn't care less about all that. There's something he's much more interested in.

Alfred blinks as he watches Arthur move through the group towards him. Though the others may not see him as an immediate threat anymore, he's still worried that they may attack him. But before he can warn Arthur to stay back, the wolfs purpose becomes clear. They all stare as, without a care in the world, the wolf snatches up the severed piece of leg and eats it.

"Eewwww!" The little girl voices all their thoughts.

"Hahahaha!" And Alfred can't help but laugh.

* * *

Alfred sips at his broth, listening to Fredric.

"So, that beast has been terrorising the town for a month now?"

"Yes."

The older man nods as he leans back in his seat. After the attack, Alfred had been invited in to the man's home for saving his life. Sitting down together, Al explained why he's here and how he met Arthur, in turn, Fredric explained about the creature and its attacks. From what he's been told, this creature has taken to attacking the town and taking children away. So the men banded together to fight it, but they're no warriors, so they had little success, some have also been taken or killed as they tried to defend themselves.

Al glares angrily down into his bowl, hating that he's been so close yet knew nothing about this. Strictly speaking, the town isn't under his care, since he's in exile, but he hates not being able to help when he's so close, especially since these attacks started just a day after he left the last time he was here.

Outside he can hear Alecia giggling as she plays with Arthur. After some more reassuring that Arthur won't harm anyone, the girl's curiosity got the better of her and she immediately ran up to him. Al was surprised by how gentle the wolf was with her, sure he knows Artie wouldn't hurt her, but he expected the wolf to growl and push the girl away.

Looking out the window, he can see the girl sitting on the wolfs back, playing with his fur, the girl's mother standing close by watching them play. Arthur doesn't seem too bothered, in fact, Al's pretty sure he's enjoying himself. Watching the pair, Alfred blinks as he suddenly has an idea.

"Thats it!" He shouts, slamming his hands down on the table as he stands, his broth sloshing in the bowl as a result.

"What?" Fredric asks, startled by the knights sudden movement.

Alfred grins widely at the man before diving out the door.

"Artie! Your still hungry, right?"

Surprised, the wolf snaps his head up from where Alecia had been pulling at his ears, causing the girl to stumble backwards, but Arthur catches her by moving his paw to balance her, electing another series of giggles.

' _ _Yes, why?__ ' He asks confused before brightening, ears perking up, ' _ _Do you have food?__ '

"Nope, but I know where to find some."

Arthur tilts his head at this, behind them Fredric comes out to see what's going on.

' _ _Find some? You mean go on a hunt?__ '

"Yup!"

Both the family look between the pair confused.

"Alfred, who are you talking to?"

"Uh? Artie." He says this like its the most obvious thing in the world.

Fredric looks at him like he's lost his mind. A reasonable assumption, given that neither he nor his wife and daughter or anyone else for that matter can hear Arthur.

"Your talking to the wolf?" He asks slowly, worried about the boys mental health.

It's one thing to think that the knight had somehow tamed the beast, which looked to be the case when the creature obeyed him before, but after his tale and seeing him talking to the beast, he's not sure what to think anymore.

"You really can't hear him, huh?"

"Hear him?"

"Yeah, Arthur's voice, it's like I told you. I __thought__ no one could hear him talking when we got here. Man, I really wish Sadık was here, he'd know what's going on." He shakes his head then smiles, "But that can wait, because we're going to help you out first."

"Alfred, you've already helped, the beast is gone."

"But we need to make sure it __stays__ gone. So here's the plan." He turns to Arthur, smiling widely as he explains, "We go track it down and kill it. That way, the town will be free from any chance of it coming back, and you get a meal out of it."

The pair consider this. It's a solid plan, with the creature dead they won't have to live in fear anymore, and, remembering how Arthur gobbled up the leg, he's sure the wolf will be more than happy to eat the rest of it.

Arthur's eyes sparkle as he licks his lips and Al doesn't need anymore to know he's in.

"You would do this for us?"

"Sure!"

Plan decided, they spend the night in town, Alfred in Fredric's home while Arthur, due to his size, is forced to spend the night in the stables. Come morning, the pair set of to track down the Aigiddyrn.

* * *

 ** **Authors notes:**** So this time we get to see things from Arthur's perspective for a bit. He's a lot more unsure about all this than he lets on. And not being able to understand anyone who isn't a wolf or Alfred doesn't help, to him, it's all just noise, so Alfred really is his only way to understand what's going on. If he had a pack he'd be a lot more confident but, well... I'll just leave it at that.

But now we have a direction, killing monsters and find out what's going on between them. And they now have the towns trust with Arthur so woo. And yeah, they're looking for Turkey. I just like the idea of Turkey being the one in the know, so he'll turn up at some point.

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	8. The hunt begins

At dawns first light, the pair head out to begin the hunt.

After the biting incident nearly a week ago, Alfred has taken to simply calling to wake Arthur from a safe distance. The entrance to the barn is a close as he's willing to get.

Armour clad, he peers around the stable doors and between the two horses standing within to find his wolf. It's not hard, giving how big Arthur is, and his white fur stands out from the wood and straw bedding he's curled up on.

"Hey, Art, time to go." Al frowns when a twitch of the ear is all he gets in response.

"Arthur, come on."

He knows he's being ignored when the wolf rolls over, flicking his ears away from the sound of the knights voice. So, in retaliation, Al throws some horse dung he finds by his feet.

The ball makes a satisfying smack as it bounces off the wolfs head, causing Arthur to turn around to glare at him.

Al smirks back. That poo ball was frozen solid, and it was a pretty strong throw too.

The wolf starts to growl at him, but Al pays him no mind, turning and heading out, only calling back, "We're wasting daylight."

He can feel Arthur's eyes on him as he stomps out, but they have a full day ahead of them, Al can't worry about Arthur's morning temper today.

"We wish you luck." Fredric waves to them as they leave.

* * *

"Oh, come on. Your not __still__ mad at me?" Al sighs, following after the grumpy wolf.

Arthur is being difficult it seems.

The wolf has refused to talk to him all morning. This wouldn't be a problem, except he's relying on Arthur's sense of smell to track down the Aigiddyrn. For all he knows, Arthur could be leading him in circles.

"I said I was sorry!" He tries to plead his case for the fourth time, quickening his pace to catch up with the other.

But each time he tries to catch up, Arthur kicks snow back at him, then runs off ahead again.

"Peh!" He spits out snow that made it's way into his mouth will talking, dusting himself off once more.

"Fine! Be that way! Your acting like a __child__ you know!"

That seems to do the trick, as Arthur finally stops and turns back to face him, snarling and showing his teeth.

' _ _I'm not the one who threw shit to wake someone up!__ ' He snaps and Al winces at the volume of Arthur's voice in his head.

"I said I was sorry!"

Arthur glares, flattening his ears back.

' _ _No, you did that intentionally. You can't be sorry for something you__ meant __to do.__ '

"What else was I supposed to do?! You wouldn't listen, and there's no __way__ I'm getting close to wake you up again!"

' _ _You didn't have to use horse shit!__ '

"It was the only thing at hand!"

' _ _That doesn't mea-__ ' Arthur suddenly stops, ears pricking up, he turns looking around.

"What?" Alfred blinks at the sudden change in attitude.

"What is i-?"

' _ _Shh!__ ' Arthur hushes him in his mind, ' _ _Something's coming.__ '

Like a switch had been flipped, the knight drops into a fighting stance, drawing his sword. He looks around, straining his ears to hear, his eyes to see, anything that might be coming.

The wolf flicks his ears about, before spinning, fixing in on a single point in the sky out in the distance. Alfred takes that as his cue, and joins him.

It's just like how training patrols with Gilbert were, he follows the lead of the one who can see the danger before everyone else.

A screeching fills the quiet and now Alfred knows exactly what's coming. An Aigiddyrn.

From the patchy clouds, the grey beast appears, descending rapidly, coming right for him.

It's a direct approach, straight on.

He takes a breath, placing his right foot back, and raises his sword, angled from ribs to shoulder across his body, and waits.

Beside him, he distantly hears Arthur growling, but the beast isn't interested in him.

The creature caws as it stretches its talons out, making to grab the knight.

Al smiles faintly as he makes his move.

With perfect timing honed from his years of training, he steps his right foot forward, and swings.

* * *

 _"_ _ _Aigiddyrn. Which one of you scrubs can tell me what that is?" Commander Beilschmidt asks, smirking as he paces on front of them.__

 _ _It's the first time he's seen the man in person.__

 _ _Commander Gilbert Beilschmidt, the Red Seer.__

 _ _Alfred is both awed and absolutely terrified. The man's a living legend. The one responsible for single handedly securing victory at the sand pits of the Krineln Desert__ _ _three years ago.__

 _ _He doesn't know if he should squeal like a love struck girl or piss himself and assume the fetal position.__

 _ _He does neither.__

 _ _Instead, he straightens his back as he shouts "I do, sir!" Drawing the man's attention to him.__

 _"_ _ _Oh?" Red eye's land on him, looking over his scrawny twelve year old frame and smirks, "Well, do tell." He drawls challengingly.__

 _"_ _ _Aigiddyrn, classed as one of the Caelum bestia. They're aerial humanoid hunters, notorious for stealing children and livestock in small settlements. Fully grown ones have also been known to go after adults."__

 _ _Gilbert uses his height to tower over him, staring him down.__

 _"_ _ _Primary method of attack?"__

 _"_ _ _Use of cloud cover to catch prey unawares. Rapid descent, uses talons to grab and kill."__

 _"_ _ _Habitat?"__

 _"_ _ _Mountainous terrain. Dark damp caves."__

 _"_ _ _Weakness?"__

 _"_ _ _Uh," He stumbles, trying to remember anything that could count as a weakness, "They're not very smart?"__

 _ _Gilbert's red eyes flash, and suddenly it feels like he's paralysed, he can't even breathe.__

 _"_ _ _Wrong." The elder stares hard at him, before smirking and his eyes flash again, releasing Alfred.__

 _ _His smirk grows at Al's terrified face as he gasps for air.__

 _"_ _ _True, they're not very smart, but that's not a true weakness. Something could be as dumb as a rock but it could still kill you. No," He paces away, back to the middle of the line up, turning on his heel to stare them all down, "An Aigiddyrn's weakness is..."__

* * *

"That they always attack in the same way!"

Sword slicing through the air, Al positions himself just right, crouching slightly, so that both legs miss, passing him by on either side of his head, then rising up again for the kill. Now, the creatures is open and, just like that, he brings his blade down on the exposed body, cutting easily through its thick hide thanks to the power of his sword. The lower half uselessly collides with his chest, while the upper sails over his head to land in the snow behind him, black blood staining the ground around him.

He sighs, wiping blood from his face and hair. It was a strange day indeed when he stopped being bothered by dead creature parts hitting him.

"Heh, Gil's method never fails." He smiles cheerily, looking to Arthur, but the wolf is already fast at work, devouring the carcass.

"Yuck," Al makes a face as he watches, "That __can't__ taste good, can it?"

Arthur doesn't answer, only tearing the body apart more, and pulling the legs away from Al.

"Hehe, relax dude, you can have it, trust me. There's no way in __hell__ I'd eat that."

That seems to satisfy the wolf as he relaxes, lying down to eat at a more leisurely rate.

Watching only makes Al's stomach turn, so he looks away, standing guard instead. He's always gone by the rule of Bleeds Red, be well Fed, Black, Yellow or Blue, more fool You. He'll snack on some of the Frost Bread Fredric's wife gave him later.

* * *

At least some good came out of that attack, Arthur is now in a much better mood, and is now back to talking to Alfred. Accord to the wolf, the Aigiddyrn from yesterday is close.

' _ _Just up there.__ ' He nods to the mountains towering over them.

Not the Quivering mountains at least, but these don't look any less hostile.

The knight sighs, looking at the climb ahead.

"Let me guess, it's in a cave at the top, right?"

' _ _Smells like it.__ ' Arthur agrees, causing Al the groan.

"Urgh, let's just get this over with."

If there was one thing in Alfred's life he hated worse than the cold, it was hiking up a mountain in full armour. Which also happened to be one of Gilbert's favourite 'character building' exercises.

But doing so in the freezing cold...

"This is my personal hell." He says with all the emotion of one who has given up on the hope of better days, accepting their fate.

' _ _Hmm?__ ' Arthur looks back at him from his place several feet ahead.

He wasn't kidding when he said he came from the mountains, the wolf leaps from ledge to ledge with as much ease as a fish swimming through water.

"Gil always said," Al grunts as he struggles onwards, "That I'd know when I found it. Well, I've found it." He pauses, doubled over to catch his breath.

"What do you think of that? Mister Red Seer." He huffs breathlessly, tired, but pushes on regardless.

As close as they got, the man still never told him everything there is to know about his power, his gift. Gil likes to keep everyone guessing, but personally, Al thinks he does have __some sort__ of prophetic power, and that maybe, Gil, is still keeping an eye out for him.

"Heh, wishful thinking..." He huffs under his breath, knowing full well he's on his own out here.

Well...

The knight looks to the wolf and, despite himself, gives a wobbly smile.

Maybe he's not as alone as he thinks.

Now if only they could find this damned cave before he keels over...

* * *

 ** **Authors notes:**** And off they go, plus some good old flashbacks. I love writing Gilbert, he knows the newbies are shit scared of him and uses it to mess with them. And his power is, well, in the words of another fandom: Spoilers.

And can I just say __thank you__ too all my wonderful reviewers, you make my day. Really, your words are like rays of light in an endless black of self doubt. Your what motivate me to crank out these chapters quicker. Okay that's enough pretentiousness from me.

For now, I'll leave you with the image of Gilbert devising the most embarrassing way to kill creatures, then teaching it to terrified youngsters, while looking completely serious, but internally laughing.

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	9. An icy hunt

**Chapter warning: violence**

* * *

"Finally!" The knight practically weeps as he collapses into the cave entrance.

The cave of the injured Aigiddyrn just __had__ to be the one at the __very top__ of the mountain. And it was no easy place to reach, well, for him anyway.

Alfred groans as he forces himself to roll over, tipping his head back to look into the cave. Arthur is happily lounging at the edge of a steep drop down into a tunnel to the heart of the cave, having been waiting for Alfred for several minutes now.

The wolf had no issue climbing over the sharp rocks that jutted out from the sheer rock-face as they climbed. Sharp claws and extremely grippy paw pads insuring he didn't slip once as he hopped rather gracefully up the steep climb. Alfred however, with his not at all grippy metal armour weighing him down had a much harder time, especially getting into the cave, which sits atop the biggest overhang he's ever seen.

At one point, he was forced to dangle from his fingers as he shifted along the ledge, a drop of several hundred feet awaiting him should he mess up.

But that's enough wasting time, they have a job to do, so, he climbs to his feet and draws his sword. The sound of the metal sliding against each other echos off the cave walls, making everything seem louder than normal.

Seeing that Alfred is now prepared, Arthur stands and leads the way down.

Past the initial drop, the cave slopes steeply downwards, quickly becoming pitch black as the light from outside doesn't reach down this far.

"Good thing I brought a torch."

In the last of the caves light, he fumbles with pulling the wood out and lighting it with the flints he always carries. It's time like these that he wishes he could use magic, things would be so much easier then. But after a moment, he manages, holding the fire out to light their way.

For a while, the only sounds are that of their footsteps and the crackle of the torch burning. Occasionally they can hear water dripping somewhere deeper down. Looking back over his shoulder, only darkness meets the knights sight.

Along with this, the cave gradually becomes narrower and damper, snowmelt wetting the rocks around them and making the descent slippery. As the tunnel shrinks, Arthur is froze to walk in front, then crouch in the increasingly cramped space. And Alfred can feel himself becoming jumpy, the torch casting eire shadows and the quiet, all putting thoughts of being watched in his head. It doesn't help when at one point Arthur pauses and sniffs warning him that ' _ _I can smell more than one down here.__ '

He's so wound up, that he nearly squeals when a drip of ice cold water lands on his neck.

Then, after what feels like an eternity, the cave opens up into a large carven.

The space feels massive after the tunnel down, but really, it's no bigger than a tiny house.

But the source of the dripping is clear now.

To the right is a small lake, most likely formed from the snowmelt runoff gathering down here, and to his left is a sharp ledge jutting out from the wall. But Arthur wasn't kidding...

On the ledge, he can clearly see two of the beasts, one lying across the injured one their after. But that is less concerning than the dozens of eggs grouped around the lake edge...

Alfred holds his breath at the sight.

This is __very__ bad...

They just walked right into a nest.

He jumps when one of the beasts shifts, but makes no further move.

Good.

The adults are asleep, so they're save for now.

"Arthur..." He whispers, not daring to speak any louder.

The wolf drops his head, ears going back, and Al knows exactly what he's thinking. There's no conceivable way that they can leave with out being heard and waking up the adults. And the tunnel is far too cramped to make a quick exit, so they'll just have to fight them here. If they can make it up to the beasts and kill them before the wake up, then they'd have a chance, but to do that...

Al looks down at his feet, surrounded by bones and pieces of egg shells. He might as well be standing in a mine field, a single miss step, and he'll wake them. And that's not even considering his noisy armour or Arthur's far larger paws.

He can't see a way around this until Arthur's voice enters his mind.

' _ _Get back in the tunnel, I'll deal with this.__ '

He want to argue, wants to tell the idiot, 'No, don't be insane.', but, he trusts the wolf so does as told. As silently as he can, he steps back up into the tunnel, watching to see what Arthur is planning.

As soon as his feet are clear, Arthur makes his move.

Crouching slightly, his eyes glow, spreading his paws out, using his magic. Alfred's jaw drops as he watches every inch of the cave floor freeze over, ice spreading outwards from the wolf, trapping the bones and shells in place, before creeping over them, and in a matter of seconds, the floor is incased in several inches of ice. Even the lake is now frozen solid, and Al shivers violently from the sheer cold.

Smirking Arthur soundlessly stalks across the ice, heading for the ledge.

Well, no time like the present.

Reaffirming his grip on his sword, Al joins him, quietly creeping after the wolf.

But Arthur didn't account for the change in temperature to wake the beasts.

Just as they near, the uninjured one wakes, instantly telling something is wrong and screeching its partner awake as well.

They take to the air just as Arthur pounces, missing the first, but grabbing hold of the others single leg with his teeth. The creature tries to fly away, but with his immense strength, the wolf jerks his head to the side, pulling the beast down and slamming it hard into the ground.

Screeching fills the air as one cries in pain while the other turns on Arthur.

"Arthur!"

Diving into action, Al charges across the ice, but slides, colliding with the cave wall as he scrambles to reach the fight. But he needn't have bothered.

From his position he can't see what's happening on the ledge, but a blast of cold air flows over him as Arthur, with the second creatures neck in his jaws, launches down from above, smashing the creature into the ice below. He watches as Arthur, with his front legs holding the creature down by the wings, rips its throat open, killing it. But the wolf was so focused on killing that one that he forgot about the other.

Good thing Al's there, as he pushes off the cave wall to slide across the ice in time to protect his companion, swinging his sword and slicing the second in half.

Silence falls as the fight is over as quickly as it started. The pairs heavy breathing the only sound between them as they recover from the adrenal rush. Back to back, the wolf standing poised over its kill, the knight on one knee, still in the same position from making his killing blow, sword held loosely at his side. The pair lit by the torch Al had dropped in the tunnel.

The knight finally sighs, standing to face his partner.

"Dude," Al whispers in awe, "that, was the single most awesome thing ever! What else can you do?"

He knew the wolf was magic, and could make and end Blizzard from their first meeting, but he had know idea he could __freeze__ the entire __room__.

Arthur smirks at him, raising his head in pride as he boasts, ' _ _I am capable of__ far __more than you can imagine.__ '

"You have __got__ to show me!"

' _ _Perhaps. If you keep providing me with food like this, I just might.__ '

Alfred grins, liking the idea of more hunts together.

"Heh, yeah, we make a pretty good team."

And for once, the wolf actually smiles back at him.

' _ _Yes, we do.__ '

* * *

' _ _Mine.__ ' Arthur growls annoyed, some time later, when Alfred tries to grab for the beast carcass he's eating.

"Dude, I already told you, I don't want to __eat__ it. But I need that head. How else am I going to prove we killed it if you eat it all?"

He watches the wolf huff before begrudgingly allowing him to grab hold of the head. Now he takes his prize, as any good hunter knows, proof of the kill is best shown with the dead's head.

He sits down on the ice, taking out his knife and begins to cut through the neck.

"There." He smiles, holding up the severed head to show Arthur, "Now you can have the rest." He says as he stuffs the head in a separate bag for safe keeping, not bother by the black blood slowly dripping out of the bottom.

As Arthur eats, he looks over at the eggs worriedly.

"Sooo," He starts, flicking his eyes to his ever hungry friend, "what are we gonna do about those? I know we can't just leave them. If they hatch they'll just be even __more__ problems for the towns people. But I kinda feel bad about killing them. Horrible man-eating creatures aside, they're still just babies."

Not even pausing, Arthur flicks his eyes to the eggs and, like before, they glow and ice starts to creep up over the eggs, freezing them solid.

' _ _There, now you don't have to.__ '

"Dude, that was cold."

Arthur blinks at him, confused.

' _ _That was the point.__ '

"No, I meant... Never mind." He shakes his head, giving up.

If there's one thing he's learned, it's that Arthur can be oddly literal at times, while at others, he can understand things just fine.

"Okay, once your done, we can get going. We might even be able to make it back to town before nightfall."

* * *

Climbing back down the mountain side was never going to be easy, Al knew, but he didn't think he'd get stuck at the very beginning.

He leans over the edge of the cave entrance, trying to find a safe way down. But no matter how he looks at it, he's not getting down with out breaking something.

Actually seeing the knights difficulty, Arthur jumps back up to be beside him again.

' _ _What's the matter?__ '

"Urgh, there's just no way I can get back down with out falling." He sighs as he lies on his stomach, giving up on finding a safe way down, "I'll just have to live the rest of my life up here."

Arthur tilts his head at him, looking between the drop and Alfred, before surprising the knight.

' _ _Don't be ridiculous, your coming back down with me.__ '

"Dude, I'll fall if I try."

' _ _Then don't try.__ '

Not looking at him, Arthur lies down beside him.

' _ _Come on.__ '

Confused, Alfred let's out an intelligent, "Huh?" Causing the Wolf to huff.

' _ _Get on.__ '

Al blinks, once, then twice for good measure, wondering if he heard that right.

"Get on... your back?"

Arthur rolls his eyes at the Knight's apparentcluelessness.

' _ _No, my head,__ ' He drawls sarcastically before snapping, ' _ _Yes my back, hurry up.__ '

With no small amount of apprehension, he does as told, carefully approaching the other, before gently placing his hands on the wolfs back and swinging his leg over, mounting him.

' _ _Hold on.__ '

He warns as he stands, feeling the human shift about as he rises.

"W-whoah!"

With nothing else to hold onto, Al desperately grabs at Arthur's fur, holding on tightly as the wolf moves. Once standing, he adjusts his position, shifting back a bit to be sitting just behind Arthur's shoulders, moving his hand to grip the fur around the back of his neck, and squeezing his thighs to hold on with his legs.

It's kind of like riding a horse bareback.

Once he's sure he's seated as best he can, he sighs.

"O-okay. I'm good."

' _ _Good.__ '

And with that, Arthur begins the rapid descent down the mountain with Alfred holding on for dear life. If ever asked, the knight will absolutely deny having screamed as Arthur jumped off the edge, dropping several feet to land on the next rocky outcrop. Or having continued screaming with each jump. Though, past the terror, he can't help but feel an exhilaration, and once he realises he's not going to die, he starts to enjoy it.

"Hehehe! YEAH!"

Feeling their bond, Al leans into the jumps, adjusting himself to ease up his weight on Arthur at the right moments, and together, they descend faster and faster. This allows Arthur to quickly get up to his top speed, which Alfred learns, is pretty damn fast.

He could get used to this.

* * *

 ** **Authors notes:**** Ah, team work. The pair are starting to get along quite well now as their friendship starts to develop over the sense of being stuck together. And Alfred is starting to realise that having a massive wolf as a friend might not be so bad after all, especially since when Arthur is well fed, he can actually be nice. Like giving him a lift down sheer drops.

This is one of those little plot points left over from the beginning of this story, just alfred riding Arthur like a badass.

They might just be able to get along together.

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	10. Finding answers

It was quite a sight for the towns people when, as darkness fell, Alfred came charging in still riding atop Arthur. This time, people moved out of the way not in fear of being eaten, but of being run over.

Wolf and knight came to a skidding halt in the centre of the small village, successfully drawing everyone's attention to the pair.

Grinning like a manic, Al sat up straight as he lifted the bag with the creatures head high for all to see.

"You do not have to live in fear any longer, for we have killed the beast!" He shouts far louder than is strictly necessary to be heard by such a small group.

"Is it true?" Fredric asks as he makes his way to the front of the gathering, looking up at the knight.

"Heh, see for yourself." Al says as he tosses the frozen bag to the man.

The man scrambles to catch it, somehow managing to look both relieved and disturbed as he peers inside.

"Thank you, thank you! How can we ever repay you?"

"Hehe, no need. Just doing my job."

A chorus of thanks fill the air as the whole town move in to praise the pair, though mostly directed at Alfred.

Arthur, annoyed at being ignored, gets payback by suddenly shaking his body, dislodging Alfred from his place and causing the knight to fall off to the side, landing in the snow on his back.

"Owwwww..." He groans, blinking as he stares up at the sky slightly stunned, legs still in the air as they rest on the wolf's side.

Arthur turns his head back, looking down at the other and huffing hot air in his face.

' _ _Hmph, that's what you get.__ ' He shifts, causing Al's legs to fall and join the rest of him in the snow.

Around them, the towns people shift back worriedly, unsure what to make of the display.

But before they can react any further, the scene is disrupted by slow clapping emanating from behind the group.

The sound brings Alfred out of his temporary stupor, sitting up quickly to look between the people at the source of the sound.

"Hehe. For someone who's been exiled, there really isn't a dull moment with you. Hm, Al?" A voice laughs behind the crowd.

"I'd know that laugh anywhere." Al scrambles to his feet, easily slipping through the crowd to see the other.

"Sadık! Dude, your just the guy I've been looking for!" Pleasantly surprised at the appearance of his friend, the knight runs up to the older man, pulling him into a strong hug.

"Hehe, good to see you too." He grins beneath his mask as Al releases him, "And I see you've found some..." He tips his head to look past the night to the wolf watching them, "Interesting company since I last saw you."

"Right!" Al slaps a hand to his face at having forgot the reason he was looking for the man in the first place, "Artie, come on over here!"

Sadık doesn't show it, but he's surprise when the wolf actually __obeys__ his friend, eyes widening behind his mask, before he quickly covers it with a lazy smirk.

Standing before the pair, Arthur purposely towers over the stranger, ears back slightly in warning.

"Artie, this is Sadık, the guy I told you about."

The wolf cocks his head, curious,' _ _This is the human you seek?__ ' He questions, eyes narrowed as he leans in to sniff the other.

"Yeah. Sadık, Arthur."

' _ _His smell is not from here.__ ' Arthur huffs as he pulls back, having got all he needs.

"Well, Yeah. He's from one of the southern kingdoms."

"Wait," Sadık looks between the pair, "Al, are you... talking to it?"

"Well, yeah," Alfred gives his friend a look at says that this should be obvious, before he remembers he hasn't told his friend about anything yet.

"Right! I didn't tell you. Okay, so it's like this." He starts, about to launch into a full blown story of his journey since meeting Arthur, but is halted by the man holding up his hand.

"Whoa, hold it. This sounds like it's going to be quite the tale. Let's sit down for this first, eh?"

* * *

"...and then we came back here." Al finishes.

Sadık nods slowly, not having said a thing through the whole talk, listening closely to every word.

"That's..." he trails off, tipping his head back, he rocks his seat to be able to look out the window behind him in thought.

The surreal sight of a Giant Snow Wolf playing with several young children meeting him.

He sighs, dropping his seat back down and looking across at Alfred once more.

"That's quite the story. I don't think I'd believe it if I weren't seeing it for myself."

"So, do you think you can help us figure out what's going on?" The knight asks hopefully.

"Hmm." Sadık frowns, humming in deep thought.

Alfred sits patiently, waiting for the man to sift through his boundless knowledge, or so he hopes.

"What ever it is, it's definitely magic. Though no kind I've ever seen."

Al slumps in his seat dejectedly, hope crushed.

"So you don't know then..." He mumble sadly.

"Heh, I didn't say that." The masked man grins as Al snaps his head up to stare at him.

"I'll admit, I don't know what this is, but, I know where we can find out."

"Where?!" Al all but shouts, growing excited.

"Ah-ah-a," He tsks, waving a finger in front of the knight like a scolding parent, "Come on now Al, you know I never reveal my sources."

Sadık only grins wider as Al huffs, flopping back into his seat and crossing his arms like a kid.

"Sorry, Al. Nothing personal, it's just business. But since I like you, I'll just add this to your tab." Behind the mask, Al can see the other wink at him.

"First, let me have a look at that tattoo you mentioned. I might be able to match it to something."

Nodding, he quickly undoes his armour, pulling his under shirt off to show the masked man his side.

"See?"

"Interesting... There's no doubt that it's magical." The man nods to himself, memorising the image, now more set on finding answers than before.

"Alright, you've got me. Now I __really__ want to know what this is."

"For business?" Al grins cheekily at him, Sadık returning the look doubled.

"Business is best when I'm the one in the know after all." He stands, moving back from the table, "Be back in a flash!" He waves as iron red flames sprout up around him, and an instant later both he and the flames vanish.

Still smiling, Al pulls the rest of his armour off, switching to dress in the only spare clothes he as, pulling thick furs on. By now, he's used to the Southern man's fire warping, so he decides to head out to join in the fun with Arthur.

* * *

It's near midday the next day by the time Sadık returns in a flash of flames. Considerably dirtier than when he left, and carrying the oldest looking book Al has ever seen. But the excitement on his face is plain to see even under his mask as he waves to Al, jogging over to the other, currently helping to muck out the stables. Inside, Arthur is happily lounging in the straw bedding.

"Alfred! It's... it's..." The man gasps, out of breath.

"Whoa, chill dude, take it easy. I haven't seen you this worked up since I met you."

"Oh, trust me, this is __so__ much better than rare Aconite." He's so excited, Al can feel waves of heat rolling off of him, a result of his lack of concentration on his magic.

"Hehe, Alright. Let's go inside and talk." But the man rapidly shakes his head, pushing Al into the stables instead.

"No, no. Best you be with your wolf for this."

"Um, okay." He agrees, not having much choice as he's pushed in to sit with Arthur.

The wolf looks up as they enter, rolling from his side to be sitting up as Al is shoved excitedly to sit with him.

' _ _Oh. Him again.__ ' He glares.

"Be nice." Al scolds, even though Sadık can't hear him.

Grabbing a box, the man places it to sit between them as he drops down into the hay, gently placing the old book on the box.

"Alright, so, I looked everywhere for anything about magic relating to what you described. In every known Magia type there is; elementum, simul, variante, but nothing. Then! I got to thinking, what about the __unknown__ kinds of Magia. So I started digging into the __really__ old stuff, legends and tales of magic that existed long ago. Thats when I found this!" He taps the tome with the back of his hand to emphasise his point.

"What is it?"

 _'_ _ _What's the stupid human saying?__ ' Arthur huffs down Al's back, but he ignores him in favour of listening further to the older man.

"This, my dear boy, is the __last__ remaining Noceum codex." At Al's blank stare he sighs, remembering that the knight isn't one for books, "This is a six hundred year old book detailing __all__ Magia, an I mean __everything.__ Simply __possessing__ this book is a capital offence." That made the knight's eyes widen.

"Ah, relax. Your exiled, not like they're going to find out."

"Exiled or not, I still obey the laws!" Al cries affronted.

True, in the past two years he may have become a bit... __lenient__ in his upholding of them, but he's never blatantly gone out of his way to commit an offence.

Sadık waves a hand at him, dismissing his complaint, "Oh, trust me. It's worth it."

"Fine," Al huffs through his nose, crossing his arms childishly, "Forgetting your in possession of an __illegal__ book, what's in this Noeum thing that's so good?"

"The __Noceum__ codex," he corrects with a frown at Al's poor pronunciation, "Is a manuscript of the collective findings of the Noceum order. And before you ask, they were a religious sect that was known for they're great skill in magic. Supposedly, the order was made up of five central members, each a master of one of the five key elemental magics."

"Right, so what's that got to do with anything?"

"I'm getting to that! Gods, boy, you have no patience. The orders goal was to gain control of all magic, and some of the stuff they did was pretty nasty. I'll spare you the detail. But, one good thing they did was record all their work, in books like this one. An in here, I found this." He carefully flips the book open to a specific page, turning it so Al can see.

"Uh!" Al gasps at the pages.

For in the open book, words in a language he can't read are scrawled this way and that. But this is not what catches his attention. What he stares at is the illustrations, one, a depiction of a tattoo just like his, though coloured purple and gold, and another, the image of a man and some sort of beast. It's clear this is about exactly what is going on with Al, now if only he could read it...

Sadık turns the book back around after a moment grinning, "Bet you'd like to know what it says?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

"Heh. Ahem. 'Domino bestia. Man, by blood and binding, shall connect and control the minds of the Wild. Unto his will, he may mould them, and by doing so, Shall become one with them.'"

"Eh, that's it?"

"Give me a sec. This is a very old language, it's not easy to translate. Now, let's see. It talks of a bonding Ceremony, after which that mark appears, called the mark of Binding. Those bonded are tied together through their magic and can take on the skills? No, more like attributes of the beast they bind with. This connection doesn't require conscious thought to be maintained and can apparently last your whole life."

"What?!"

' _ _What? What is it?__ ' Arthur is beginning to feel quite left out of the loop, only understanding half of the conversation, and not the important half.

"Let's see... An new binding symbol will form with each new bond, but only one bond can be maintained at time. There's a note on breaking a bond but, well..."

"Well what?"

"Let's just say these people __really__ didn't care __how__ they got their results. Trust me, you __don't__ want to know."

"Okaaay, anything else?"

"Hmm. There's a lot of nonsense scribbled in the corners, but something about shared feelings? Or, emotions? Argh, it's not very clear and the wording is all over the place." He frowns, running his finger over the words as he tries to decipher their meaning.

"Oh! This might be interesting. Al, place your hands out to the wolf."

"He has a name you know, but like this?"

"No, palms up, yeah, now, close your eyes and try concentrating on him, focus on what his energy feels like." Al sighs, but does as told.

Arthur watches, now very confused.

' _ _Alfred, what__ are __you doing?__ '

"Focus kid, __feel__ the energy between you."

"I don't know what your hoping for, you know I can't use magic." He quips still with his eyes closed.

"Just try. Come on, what's the worst that could happen?"

" _ _Fine.__ "

"Come on, Al. You can do it. __Concentrate.__ " Sadık urges.

Al tries, thinking of Arthur, envisioning him in his mind, focusing on the energy that he can feel sleeping within him, that connects them, and slowly, he can feel it bubbling up to the surface. He let's out a breath as he relaxes, and suddenly that energy is at the forefront of his mind, sitting at the tips of his fingers, making his hand start to tingle.

He snaps his eyes open and stares...

His hands...

They're covered in ice.

"Wha?!"

He looses his concentration, the energy, now not held in place, crackles as it bursts free, ice shattering as blue waves of raw power shoots out from him, freezing solid anything that they come in contact with. It only lasts a second, but the act was completely mind blowing to the knight.

And draining...

"Whaaa 'appennn'd?" He slurs, falling over, no longer having the energy to remain sitting up right.

' _ _Al!__ ' The blurry figure of Arthur jumping to his feet dances across his tired vision.

"Good news, Al! You have magic afterall!"

Sadık's deep laughter and Arthur's low growl are the last things he hears before he falls into the black of unconsciousness...

* * *

 ** **Authors notes:**** So that happened... Turkey with some good old exposition for the win.

Okay, bit of explanation: Magic in this world is divided into 3 classes; elementum, simul, variante. Which, if you know your Latin, like I don't, means; Elemental, combine and variant.

First, Elemental is classed as singular control of one of the 5 base elements; Earth, Wind, Fire, Water and the hardest of all, Energy. This class is extremely rare, so not many people have it.

Second is Combinative magic, this, as you might expect, is classed as magics that combine two or more of the base elements. This isn't as rare as pure Elemental, but is still quite uncommon.

And lastly is Variant magic. This is the most common type of magic, and is classed as any magic that is a lower variation of the base elements.

So, for example, Arthur's Ice magic is a Variant of the Water base. Meanwhile Turkey's Fire warping is a type of Combinative magic of the Fire and Energy bases, while the heat Al felt was from a Variant of the Fire Base.

Along with these 3 classes, magic is further subdivided into 2 main types of use; Internal and External. This is pretty simple, Internal is any magic an individual actively creates, while External is magic bound to an object or person which doesn't require the user to supply.

So, Internal would be Arthur's Ice magic while External is the type of magic Al relies upon in his sword and armour.

Okay, explanation over, I hope that all makes sense. This'll get explained more in the next few chapters, but I thought I'd lay it all out here just in case.

And to the anon who asked if our dear wolf and knight's relationship will remain platonic or become romantic? Well... *cue cheesy T.V ad voice* This is where you, dear viewer, come in! For just one review, you too, can have your say in how you'd like to see this story go! *end silly voice*

But really, at this point I could make it go anyway. I have plans, but I want to know what you guy's think.

Okay, Long authors notes is long, but hopefully slightly longer chapter makes up for it.

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	11. Understanding

' _ _...re...__ '

' _ _...ke up...__ '

' _ _...Al...p...__ '

Alfred groans at the distant sounds drifting through his mind. He can feel warm air moving over his face, coming in long puffs and smelling oddly familiar...

Hmm, something is nudging him...

' _ _...wake up...__ '

The sounds gradually become clearer, and he swears he can hear something whining by his head, gently nudging him again.

' _ _...wake up Al,__ please _ _...__ '

Something about the desperation in the voice and the sad whine acts as a trigger, pulling him back into the waking world.

"Urrrgh... uuuhhh?" He blinks, vision blurry as he looks up.

A large white object sighs in clear relief as it looks down at him.

He blinks a few more times, eye's focusing, and finally sees it's Arthur's head.

"Aarrr?" He tries to ask, but his voice comes out as a slurred mess.

' _ _Lie still, your alright.__ '

Mind still not fully up to speed, he just blinks up at the wolf, eyes catching on a splash of red on his muzzle. Not really thinking, he lifts his hand up, arm feeling weirdly heavy, to touch the red.

"'Ooouurr 'uuurrt." He tries to talk, but Arthur just shakes his head, nudging his hand back down.

' _ _I'm fine.__ ' He assures him, but this makes Al frown.

"'Oouu 'aavvee 'uuudd on 'oouur 'aaccee." He tries to say, pointing out the red, now knowing it to be blood.

Arthur's face doesn't give anything away as he simply says, ' _ _It's not mine.__ '

His eyes begin to drift shut, feeling incredibly tired for some reason, but Arthur nudges him again, forcing him to stay awake.

' _ _No, you mustn't sleep.__ '

"Mmhh... 'iirr'dd..."

' _ _I know, but you can't sleep now.__ '

When his eyes start to close again, Arthur grows more agitated, sounding panicked, shaking him a bit roughly, ' _ _No, no. Al, don't sleep. Don't.__ Please, __please, don't sleep.__ '

He groans again.

Arthur's barely making any sense, only continuing to beg him to not sleep, over and over again.

It's like he's scared...

Al frowns, forcing himself to focus on their bond.

He __is__ scared.

Al can feel his own heart begin to race from the wolfs fear.

Suddenly he doesn't feel tired anymore. In an instant, all his thoughts become solely focused on his friend. He forces himself to sit up, turning and crawling over to the wolf, he doesn't know why, but he feels like it's the __right__ thing to do.

He reaches up and wraps his arms around Arthur's neck, hugging him.

"It's okay. __I'm__ okay." He feels the wolf stiffen at his touch, before releasing a shaky breath, lowering his head onto the knights back, returning the hug.

"See? I told the damn beast you'd be fine. But did it listen? No!"

Alfred jumps back at the voice, turning to see Sadık standing at the entrance to the stables, right arm in a sling and left leg bandaged.

At the man's presence, Arthur jumps to his feet, growling threateningly, ears flat back and ready to strike.

"Wha? Arthur calm down." He stands wobbly, leaning on the stable wall for support.

' _ _Get away!__ ' Arthur snaps, diving at the man, Sadık raising his left hand, ready to use his magic.

"Arthur, __stop!__ " And like that time back when they met, he does as told, halting mid step.

Al pushes himself forward, switching from the wall to leaning on Arthur's side.

"Look, whatever happen, it wasn't Sadık's fault. He's a good friend, and I __know__ he'd never do anything to hurt me. So chill, Alright?"

' _ _...__ '

Though he looks unconvinced, Arthur dips his head, standing down, choosing to simply glare at the masked man instead.

"So, uh, what __did__ just happen? And what happen to __you__?"

"Your idiot wolf happened!" Sadık fumes, before sighing, "He attacked me after you passed out. I __tried__ to tell him you'd be fine, but no, he wouldn't listen." Al's eyes widen at his friends claim.

"Artie, did you attack him?"

' _ _He hurt you! He made you go into an un-waking sleep!__ ' Al blinks in surprise, taken aback.

Since when was Arthur this defensive about him? He thought the wolf didn't really like him, so where was this all suddenly coming from?

"Artie, your not making any sense, I just passed out, right? No big deal."

Now it was Arthur's turn to look surprised.

' _ _Not..? But... you wouldn't wake!__ '

Now Al's beginning to understand. He smiles gently at the wolf, patting his side as he lessens his weight on him, feeling more steady on his feet now.

"I get it. I suppose out in the wild, there's not a lot of things that'll make you pass out." His smiles softens as he fully understands, Arthur's previous fear now clear to him, "It'd be dangerous. But don't worry, I wasn't going to die. And I'm fine now, see? No need to worry."

It takes a moment to sink in, but once it does, Arthur sighs, anger gone, he drops his glare. Wolf now calmed, Al turns his attention back to his friend.

"Sorry about him, he was just scared."

Much to the knights relief, Sadık grins.

"Yeah, I got that. And while you were out, I did a bit more reading. I should have realised sooner that he can only understand you." His grin morphs into a smirk as he continues, "But the bites were worth it. You'll wanna see this."

Without any further explanation he turns and heads back out.

Curious, Al follows, with a cautious Arthur right behind.

The few people milling about give them weary looks as they pass. Al thinks it's because they know Arthur attacked Sadık. But when they've walked a few steps away, the man turns, gesturing Al to look back.

What he sees makes his jaw drop.

Rising up out of the stables in jagged pillars are dozens of giant icicles, several feet wide and dozens more in height. It's like the stables have been turned into a massive ice hedgehog.

Alfred's mouth opens and closes, unable to form words. His first reaction is to look to Arthur, but the wolf also seems impressed, so he looks to Sadık for an explanation.

Seeing the knights gaping stare, he smirks and, in the most casual of voices says, "Yeah, that was you."

His mouth flaps uselessly for a good minute before he's able to squeak out, " _ _me?!__ " The sound making the man laugh at his shock.

"Yup, you."

* * *

"Okay, explain it to me again."

Sadık sighs, tired of trying to get Alfred to understand.

"It's __simple.__ That ice was created by you tapping into your connection with the wolf."

"Arthur."

"Yeah, him. You did all that by accessing just a __tiny__ part of the power. But since your not used to using magic, you let out to much of your own energy along with it, that's why you passed out."

"Okay, I get __that__ but I __don't__ get __how?__ I've never had magic before, so why would I just suddenly have it now?"

"That's what I've been reading. This gift of yours __is__ your magic. That's why you've never been able to learn any, because you never __needed__ to. Think of it like this; your body is a container for magic, but you can only fill it with so much at one time. This gift of yours has been filling you this whole time, so you never had any room to learn anything else. But now that you've tapped into it, you've popped the lid off, so now there's more room. And the first thing that's filled this new space is the link between you and him." He nods his head to the wolf, Arthur lying out in the snow as the pair talk in Fredric's house once more.

"So what? Now I can talk to any creature? Or just Arthur?"

"That's the thing, for all the books detail, that part was oddly lacking. It could be that you can only communicate with wolves, or it only work for Arthur, or maybe you just need to unlock it to work on other creatures."

Alfred frowns, thinking back, "Well, I was only able to start to talk to Artie when he was trying to eat me. And I __really__ don't want to replicate that just to be able to talk to something else."

"Good point. And it did say you can only bind with one at a time, so you may not even be able to as long as your bonded to him."

"Urgh..." Al groans, slumping across the table, "Don't remind me. How did I even manage to __bond__ with him?"

"Hehe, seems like you accidentally did the Bonding ceremony."

" _ _How__ though?"

"Simple, you asked for his name and gave yours in return. Seems that that's all there is to it."

"That's no fair! This power should come with a warning: don't ask for names unless you want to be stuck together forever."

"Hehe." The man laughs at his predicament, "Come on, it can't be that bad, __oh__ Beast master."

"Stop calling me that..." He mumbles into the table.

"Or do you prefer __Domino bestia.__ " The man laughs more when Al only groans louder at the official title.

"This sucks. What kind of rules are these, asking for a name seals a deal?"

"Hehehe, since when has the rules of magic ever made much sense? We live in a world were men can become like gods with enough training, what part of that makes sense to you?"

"Mmh..."

Sadık let's him wallow for a moment longer before changing the subject.

"So, what now?"

Al just raises his hands in a shrug, head still planted on the table.

"Oh, come on. You must have __something__ you want to do now that your a free man?"

"What part of this makes me sound __free__ to you?"

"The part were your not exiled anymore?"

Confused, Al finally lifts his head to look at the other. The man is grinning at him, knowing Al hasn't realised it yet.

"What do you mean?"

"Do I have to spell __everything__ out for you?" He makes it sound like he's annoyed, but his cocky grin shows he's just toying with the knight, "You told me before, your King's decree when he exiled you. 'You will remain there, until your days end, or until you discover your true calling.' This, Al, __is__ your true calling. Your a Beast master, the proof is playing with a bunch of __kids__ just outside."

"I... I'm not exiled anymore?"

"Nope. You've found your true calling, so you no longer need to guard that crummy fort. Your freed from your obligation, your debt has been paid."

Al stares, letting this sink in...

He's free, he can go home again...

He can go __home.__

"And you have been, ever since you met that wolf."

"..."

"Well?"

"... ** _ _ **YEEEEESSSSS!**__** " It's no exaggeration to say that Alfred's shout of joy could be clearly heard all around the town, the walls shaking from the sheer volume of his voice.

Sadık may just have gone deaf in one ear, but that doesn't stop him grinning as his friend topples his chair as he dives out the door, talking rapidly to the wolf who tilts his head at him in wonder.

He smirks, eyes sharp as he watches the knight even as he casts, warping away without another word.

* * *

"And where the __hell__ have you been?"

His smirk grows, " _ _Ooh__ , you'll __want__ to hear this."

* * *

 ** **Authors notes:**** Mwhaha, Oh Turkey, what are you up to? So a bit more explanation on Al's power, and things are starting to happen elsewhere. But now Alfred gets to go home after two years away. What'll happen from here on out? You'll just have to wait and see.

Look at me, updating two stories at once, what ever happened to 'updates will be slow'? Reviews. Reviews happened.

And no, I haven't read the Inheritance Cycle, but I did see the Eragon film once. But any parallels between this and that are purely coincidental, I assure you.

On a slightly unrelated note, would anyone be interested in a fluffy romance-ish usuk / ukus Christmas fic?

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	12. Shattered past, hopeful future

Arthur is... unsure.

He's been feeling unsure about a lot of things lately. For the first time in his life, the instincts he's always relied upon to survive, can't tell him what to do.

What is right?

He listens as the knight talks with rapid excitement about going home. A home, Arthur knows nothing about, yet the boy seems set on the idea that that's where they're going next, first thing in the morning. Hell, even before daybreak he wants to head out.

Not that Arthur is against leaving this place, after all, there's no food for him here. But...

What is right...

Should he still stay with the knight? He has promised him food, and even continues to deliver on it. He's not been this full since before... then...

Or should he leave? He's a capable hunter, and if he were to go to those mountains they just came back from, he's sure he could find plenty to hunt throughout the rest of the winter. But then...

That would mean leaving Alfred...

What is right..?

Time was, when he didn't have to think so much about anything. Didn't have to worry about where his next meal would come from. When he was __feared__...

Now...

He's surrounded by __humans__ of all things, and they don't fear him. Not like they should. In fact, if he didn't know any better, he'd say they're __reassured__ by his presence. They act as if they feel __safe__ around him. Even letting their pups play with him.

No, wait. Not pups, what was it Al called them? Kids? Was that it?

Young ones anyway.

They climb all over him, and he doesn't even fight it, he __allows__ it. Only __allows__ , not... not like he's enjoying it...

What is __right?__

He should growl, snap, __bite__ at them. He __should__ tear apart that boy that keeps tugging on his ear. He should. He __would__ have, before... then... and before Alfred...

Alfred...

He looks over at the knight, now free of that ever present armour, running around throwing snow at the little ones. He can feel it, this __bond__ they have. The boy's happy, the happiest Arthur has ever seen him in the short time they've known each other. But he can tell. No. He __knows__ , that this is the happiest he's been in two years.

The knight was chased from his home, by others. By those with more power. By those that rule the land.

Like he was...

But unlike him, Al can now go back. __He__ can go back to his family.

But Arthur can't, he __knows__ that's all been lost to him.

He sighs, dropping his head down onto his paws and closes his eyes. He can here the voices of the humans around him. Odd sounds that hold no meaning to him. Only Alfred's rings clear, ears tuned in to listen.

He misses this, being able to relax.

When that half faced __human__ hurt him, __hurt__ Al...

When he dropped, when he wouldn't wake...

Images flash behind his closed eyelids.

Teeth, claws, a voice of hell, __screaming,__ blood...

So much __blood...__

* * *

 _'_ _ _Run! Run! It's coming!'__

 _'_ _ _Hurry!'__

 _'_ _ _Marianne!'__

 _'_ _ _Go! Take Peter and__ ** _ _ **go!**__** _'_

 _'_ _ _Aaaaarrrhhh!'__

 _'_ _ _Alistair!'__

 _'_ _ _Go! Just go!'__

 _'_ _ _No! Nonononono!'__

* * *

"Artie?"

He wakes with a start. It's dark now. Disoriented, he pulls himself back, keeping low, ears back and teeth bared, snarling at the danger.

"Hey, take it easy." A gentle voice tells him softly.

He blinks, no longer seeing rivers of blood, but a familiar face looking worriedly at him.

"Hey." Alfred smiles softly at him, voice quiet and gentle.

Alfred, right, not... then...

He can feel his breathing is quickened, his heart is racing. When did he fall asleep? Stupid dream.

"Are you Okay? You were whimpering." Alfred keeps looking at him, worried.

' _ _I don't__ whimper.' He snaps. Or he tries to, but it just comes out sounding tired.

"Hey, it's alright." Al tells him as he steps closer, but stops when he drops his ears back in threat.

But he doesn't do anything more, doesn't growl or snap like he should, and when Alfred continues his approach, he doesn't stop him, even when the knight reaches out to him, he does nothing to show he doesn't want the other near.

Despite the cold, the knight sits with him, saying nothing.

Is this right?

He lost his pack once, but can he really consider a human part of a pack?

He doesn't know. But he does know one thing, he doesn't want to be alone anymore.

Pack or not, human or wolf, whatever it is they have, he'll take it.

Just __please,__ don't let him be alone anymore.

* * *

Alfred is certain of two things. First, fate is a bitch that has it out for him. And second?

' _ _No.__ '

Arthur is the single most stubborn person? Wolf that he has ever met.

"Oh, come on! This'll make things __ten__ times easier."

' _ _No, I am__ not __wearing__ that.'

Al sighs, wondering why he couldn't have bonded with a more reasonable wolf. For the past two hours he's been trying to convince Arthur, but the other is adamant in his refusal.

"Just try it, __please.__ "

' _ _I am__ not __a horse! I refuse to be made a fool of by wearing a__ saddle!'

"Come on, please Arthur." He begs for what feels like the millionth time, "It's like a months walk to the capital, but if I ride you, we could cut that time in half, __easily.__ "

' _ _I am not your__ pet! __You can't just go riding around on me as you please!__ ' Arthur shouts affronted, making Al wince whenever he raises his voice like that.

He sighs, lowering the saddle.

"What do I have to do to get you to work with me here?"

' _ _Nothing! Because I don't work__ for __you. I don't work for anyone. I'm not some beast you've tamed that you can just go prancing around on like you__ own __me!__ '

"Of course not!" He cries, shaking his head wildly, "Your not a pet, or some random animal I'm trying to show off. We're a __team__ , Artie. I want all this to work for the __both__ of us."

Arthur huffs, but at least he seems to be listening.

"The faster we get there, the sooner you can have all the food you could __possibly__ want. I promise. And your a lot faster than me. __And__ we both know you can carry me just fine. But if we're going to be doing it for a long time, we'll __need__ a saddle. For you as much as me. I'll end up hurting your back riding bareback all the time and my legs'll get __super__ sore. I don't want to hurt you, and I'm not trying to humiliate you or anything." He sighs more heavily, dropping the saddle when Arthur shows no sign of being closer to agreeing.

"I just wanna go home." He murmurs to himself.

A silence passes between them for a time, before Arthur huffs.

' _ _Oh,__ fine. __Let's just get this over with.__ '

"Wha- really?" He asks excitedly, looking up to the wolf.

' _ _Don't make me repeat myself.__ '

Grinning happily, Al snatches the saddle back up and immediately gets to work.

He grabs the biggest saddle blanket he can find and throws it over Arthur's back, then does the same with the saddle, immediately in countering a problem.

"It's not big enough." He tells the wolf, scratching his head.

Arthur's back is simply too wide for a horses saddle.

' _ _So you made me do this for nothing.__ ' Arthur sighs, both annoyed and relieved.

Al pulls the saddle off, taking a step back and thinking.

"I've got it!"

Arthur watches bemused as the knight dashes about the stables, grabbing seemingly any old odds and ends, before running outside, with a call of he'll be back.

He returns ten minutes later with even more stuff piled high in his arms.

"If a horses saddle won't fit you, then I'll simply have to __make__ one that does!" He reveals is brilliant idea as he sits next to the wolf, getting to work.

Alfred may not be the most skilled at this kind of thing, but like they say, necessity is the mother of invention. And he's had __plenty__ of time over the past two years to at least know how to __mend__ something. So how much harder could it be to __make__ something?

Apparently, quite hard. It takes him far longer than he thought it would to make his slapdash saddle from the random bits and pieces of fabric and leather he scraped together.

He holds up His finished creation to Arthur, who gives it a wary look as Al moves to put it on him. Some messing about later, and done! One working saddle, fit for a wolf.

Arthur though, is less thrilled, as he shakes and raises his back leg to scratch at it.

"Hey! Don't scratch it!"

' _ _It's itchy.__ ' He complains.

"You just need to get used to it. You'll see, it'll help in the long run, I promise."

' _ _Yeah? Well, it better. Or I'm ripping it apart.__ '

But Al just grins, climbing up, but Arthur immediately starts to complain.

' _ _Ooww! What is that jabbing me in the side?__ '

"Huh? You mean the stirrups?"

' _ _Get rid of them, they__ hurt!'

"But..." He tries to explain their purpose, but Arthur is having none of it.

' _ _Get rid of them, or I__ swear, __I will rip this to shreds right now.__ '

Not wanting to lose all his mornings hard work, he quickly climbs back down, altering the saddle and removing the stirrups. It'll be harder to stay balanced with out them, but it'll still be better than no saddle at all.

"Alright, they're gone, but if I'm to get on, you'll need to lie down again."

Once back on, the pair adjust themselves, getting a feel for the saddle and Arthur for Alfred's still unfamiliar weight on his back.

"Well?" Al asks when he thinks they've both got this all figured out.

' _ _Hmm, it's not__ completely __horrible. I'll wear it, for__ now.'

"Great!"

And so, that was how the town bid farewell to the unlikely pair. Alfred grinning like an idiot as he rode atop a slightly annoyed Arthur, with a new destination in mind.

 _ _Home.__

* * *

 ** **Authors notes:**** Hello, and welcome to a game I like to call: who's dead?

Haha...ha...aah.. I'm a terrible person.

So this is actually two chapters combine, since Arthur's one alone was too short, I just added it on to the start of the next, hope it doesn't come of as too weird like that.

But yeah, poor Artie doesn't have the nicest past. Man, what is with me giving him crappy back stories? This, my Pokemon au his dad's an ass, even in my Fruk one him mother is dead. I love ya really Artie, honest, your my fave, I just keep torturing you. Well, Alfred has his fair share in this too, so I guess it evens out.

But with his worry over Alfred passing out, and a __very__ rapid explanation of what's going on between them — "Artie! Artie! I can go home! 'Cause I'm magic and your my beast and we're bonded for life and I can go __home!__ " — Arthur is starting to reevaluate how he views the knight. Or at least that's what I'm hoping my writing shows.

But since I woke up to __so many__ wonderful reviews, I'm feeling generous, so have a sneak peak of what's to come:

* * *

The knights glared burned into him far hotter than the deserts sun. Just to prove his point, with a flick of his unarmed hand, he ordered one of the ethereal swords down. He didn't even blink as he mercilessly killed one of the random patrons of this gods forsaken dive.

"I won't ask again." He warns dangerously, pushing the tip of his own sword further down on the axe wielders throat, "Where can I find Lukas?"

* * *

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	13. Unwanted observations

"YEEEEAAAHHH!"

' _ _Will you__ shut up?'

"Hehe, sorry."

He couldn't help it, riding Arthur at high speed across the open plains of the Ivory Expanse is just so __thrilling.__ He just had to shout into the wind, he was having so much fun.

Arthur just huffs below him, but doesn't slow. Even at this 'casual' pace, he's moving far faster than a horse. Alfred had suggested that they take their time, he doesn't want to burn Arthur out after all. But the wolf was just as keen to stretch his legs as the knight was to get home, bursting into a sprint as soon as they left the town, before dropping back down into a light run.

' _ _So which way?__ '

"Just keep heading south, we'll run into a small town in a few hours at this pace." Alfred advises as he adjusts his hold on the edge of the saddle he made, trying to let up his weight on the key points of Arthur's back.

' _ _A few hours?__ ' Arthur asks back, and Al can hear the smirk in his voice, ' _ _That sounds like a challenge.__ '

And Arthur took it head on, picking up speed with ease, the pair raced along so fast, Al could barely make out any distinct features in the snow, it all just blurred into one white mass.

* * *

By the time they could see the town, Arthur was breathing hard as he slowed, clearly having pushed himself to continue running at such speeds for so long. But when Al jumped down, he could see that Arthur was happy. Tired, but happy.

"We'll spend the night here." He says as he pats the wolf's side, walking alongside him into town.

The town, while still small, is much bigger than the half dozen houses of the last village. Old stone building sit tightly packed together around the central plaza, the market place. Alfred's been here a number of times since his exile, as it's the only place within the Ivory Expanse with decent supplies that come in on a somewhat regular basis. Since the town is essentially a trading outpost, nearly everyone that lives here runs a stall of some kind. Travelers from all over busy themselves bartering their wares, or are just passing through on their way to someplace else.

They've all seen plenty of weird things, but a fully armour knight with a giant wolf walking into town is by far the strangest. Since Arthur is just walking calmly, and not ripping Al to shreds, the people don't flee at the mere sight of him, but they do move back. The quiet bustle of the market is completely silenced by their arrival as everyone stops and stares.

' _ _Alfred...__ ' Arthur sounds worried.

He can take people running in fear, at least that he understands. But all the staring is unnerving him, not knowing what they're all thinking, what they might do next. Al just smiles easily, giving him another reassuring pat on the leg.

It's quickly becoming apparent that this is just something they're going to have to get used to. Walking into a town is never going to be the same.

Not acting bothered at all, Alfred walks straight up to a particular stall, though they all look the same to Arthur.

"Sofronia, how's things?" He asks by way of greeting, leaning on the stall bench.

"Alfred..." The young woman says back slowly, eyes trained on the wolf behind her customer, "What is that..."

"Heh," grinning casually he answers, knowing the whole market is listening in, "He's a friend. Don't worry, he won't bite. Unless someone annoys him." At this, he casually flicks his eyes over to the slowly forming group of eavesdroppers, causing them to all dash away.

"Right..."

"Anyway," He says louder than necessary, bringing the woman's attention back to him by loudly dropping his broken Sky Blade onto the stall, "Can you fix this?" He asks casually, but there's no denying the hint of hopefulness in his voice.

Brown eyes widen as she snatches up the two half's, "Alfred Jones! How did you manage to break __this__?" She gasps, shocked that such a sword could be snapped in __half.__

"Hehe, funny story. But can you fix it?"

The woman frowns, already in work mode as she runs her hand over the faint runes imprinted into the sides of the sword. They glow a gentle light sky blue in response.

"The magic is still there, so you didn't __completely__ ruin it. A simple reforge and it would be as good as new." She concludes, nodding to herself as she's already planning out the repair process, "But a job like this won't come cheep." She warns.

"They never do." Al jokes, dropping the Emerald horns from the antelope down between them, "This should cover it." He smiles as the woman's eyes light up.

"Yes, this should do nicely." She practically beams, admiring the clear green of the horns.

"And," Al adds as she goes to take the horns, halting her hands movements to hover just short, "If you could put me and my friend here up for the night? That'd be great."

"Oh, you drive a hard bargain Jones." She chews her lower lip, looking longingly over the horns before sighing, "But Alright. You've got yourself a deal." She agrees, quickly grabbing the horns before Alfred can add anymore conditions to the deal.

* * *

' _ _What are you doing?__ ' Arthur asks as he lies watching the night, enjoying the heat from the forge.

"Shh, I'm __trying__ to relax." Al hushes, eyes closed as he sits leaning against the back of the stone bath.

Despite what others tend to think, he __can__ actually think things through. And he'd already planned where he wanted them to stay the night. Sofronia is a friend he'd made here a few months after his exile, back when she noticed his continual visits to the town, when he was working on fixing up the Solace fort. She's quite the skilled Magia Smith, able to make a large variety of magic infused weapons and armour. So her place was first in mind, since he had always planned on coming here before everything in the last village. He __really__ wants his precious sword fixed, plus, the forge is easily the biggest building in town that isn't the stables, meaning that Arthur can fit in just fine.

Sure, Al may not be all about personal hygiene these days, but there really is only so much sleeping in barns someone can take before the smell gets too much. At least if Arthur gets dirty, he can just roll in the snow to get clean. But Alfred's not had a bath now in over two weeks, and he was __really__ starting to stink. Another benefit of Sofronia's place, the water bath for the forge also doubles as an easily heated bath. After all, why go to the trouble of heating water in your house, when you have a toasty forge sitting right outside that can do the job just fine?

He sighs as he sinks further into the hot water, steam rising up off the surface.

Arthur however, is still baffled by the idea, having never seen hot water before.

' _ _You can relax in that?__ '

"Yes."

' _ _But how? Isn't it just all wet?__ '

"Yeah but it's __sooooo__ warm."

' _ _But doesn't it hurt then?__ '

"Nope, it's __juuust__ right." He sighs again, in total bliss.

Arthur says nothing more, and Al thinks that that's the end of it, until he hears the wolf moving about. He cracks an eye open and nearly jumps as Arthur is right in front of him, looking down into the steamy water.

"Dude! Privacy!" He cries, quickly moving his hands to cover himself under the water.

But Arthur ignores him, frowning slightly as he sniffs, feeling the heat radiating off the surface.

' _ _So being in here feels nice?__ '

"Yeah, well it __does__ when no one is staring down at my junk! Will you __please__ back off?!" He cries, not liking the proximity of the wolf to him when he's so exposed.

It was fine when he was on the other side of the room, not staring right at him. Thankfully, he sits back, but somehow raises an eyebrow at him, even though Al's pretty sure wolves don't have eyebrows.

' _ _Why? Are you ashamed? Are they not an impressive size for you humans?__ ' Arthur asks, genuinely curious.

"What?! No! Yes! I don't know, why would you even ask that?" He cries, face turning red, and not from the heat of the water.

Arthur, it seems, can be very inquisitive when he's genuinely curious, as he doesn't let up, no matter how embarrassed Al becomes.

' _ _Is that why you weren't a leader? Could you not beat out the other males?__ '

"No! Dude, that is __so not__ how we do things!"

' _ _It's not?__ ' The wolf tilts his head questioningly.

"No! I wasn't a leader because I was still working my way up!" He huffs, breathing heavily, still highly embarrassed.

Arthur just frowns, concluding that, ' _ _Humans are strange.__ ' Before thankfully walking back over to lie by the forge again. Alfred sighs in relief that he's no longer being judged, sinking back down into the water.

But now he's unable to relax again, so, sighing once more, he carefully climbs back out, keeping his back to the curious wolf as he grabs for the nearby towel. He thinks that that's the end of his embarrassment, but, apparently the Gods have it out for him.

Just as he's reaching for the towel, Sofronia walks in with his now cleaned clothes, and looks him over, smirking.

"Nice, but I've seen better." She says, tossing his clothes at him and laughing as she walks back out.

And just to add insult to injury Arthur says knowingly, ' _ _So it's__ not __impressive.__ ' As if he's finally unraveled a mystery.

Al groans, just what did he do to deserve this?

* * *

 ** **Authors notes:**** Haha dick jokes. Well more like __ball__ jokes, but it's all the same humour. Fun fact! Many species of male animals use testicle size to determine dominance, so that last scene wasn't __completely__ out of nowhere. As for what that means for our boys? Well, I'll leave that up to your imagination for now. A few people __have__ voted for romance so... *shrugs*

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	14. Magic lessons

Since the break to his sword is apparently harder to fix than Al thought, the pair decide to spend some more time in town while Sofronia works on the repairs.

No longer carrying around a half broken sword and a large set of horns, Al's bag is now considerably emptier. So he spends the better half of the first day buying more supplies for the road and, since Arthur is going to be doing most of the work, he uses the last of his coin to by a half dear to feed him.

Safe to say anyone thinking of robbing them was scared off as Arthur devoured the deer in the middle of the market. No point dragging it all the way round to the forge when he could just eat it then and there.

By the second day, Alfred was completely bored with nothing to do but sit around and wait. But he soon found ways to amuse himself.

He played with the few kids running around, creating a massive game of hide and seek with Arthur as the one searching. The kids, quickly catching on that Arthur could sniff them out, began to hide themselves in more and more creative ways, one boy going so far as to cover himself with the strong smelling tanning dye of his fathers shop. But even that wasn't enough to outwit Arthur.

Realising that they couldn't win, the game quickly developed into a snowball fight instead, all the children against Alfred who took to using Arthur as a shield, much to the wolf's annoyance.

But even the children soon tired, leaving Al with nothing to do again.

Bored once more, he took to thinking.

It's been two whole years since he was exiled. He's not seen or even heard from his brother since then. His younger twin, Mattie, his only family left. And he had to abandon him all because he messed up.

What's he up to now? How's he been all this time?

The last he knew, his brother was working to become an apprentice Book Keeper. It sounds boring to him, but Mattie was all over it. Records and archives of ancient knowledge, everything there is to know about the capital, or the entire kingdom.

His brother's always been the smart one, he just hopes that he was able to use that big brain of his to keep safe.

He misses him.

"Just a little longer Mattie. I'll be home soon." He promises.

His brother was always good at magic too, just like seemingly __everyone__ else around him.

He lifts his hands out above his head as he lies back on a bench across from the forge.

He'd bet anything that Mattie would know how to use __his__ magic. He'd have figured all this out on the first __day.__

He frowns, trying to remember what Sadık told him.

He has to focus, feel the energy within him, feel the connection he has with Arthur.

Regulating his breathing, he stares up at his hands as he feels the energy bubbling back up inside him. He watches as his hands start to tingle like before, ice slowly creeping around them, covering them. It's an odd sensation, the strange tingling, but his hands aren't cold, even as they freeze over.

He lets out a breath, slowly pushing the energy back down, so that it doesn't all burst out again. Once returned to the back of his mind, he studies his hands. The ice is only a few millimetres thick, and breaks when he wiggles his fingers, little shards dropping down to melt on his face.

Not much use then, is it?

But he knows he can do a __lot__ more, the 'ice hedgehog' he made was proof of that. But how does he control that?

Just how __do__ you control magic? Thinking back to the few times he tried to learn, he can recall a few things.

Magic is power. But that power is limited. It is in the application, the __use__ of that power that determines it's strength. It must be given direction, it must be given __form__ to be of any use.

But how do you give power form?

Magic use is a conscious thought, so, logically, he has to think about it right?

Just think, he can do that.

He frowns as he holds his hands out once more, concentrating on pushing the magic up and out his hands. They freeze over like before, but nothing else happens, no matter how hard he tries imagining forming more ice, focusing on making the magic form a ball of ice in his hands, nothing.

He sighs, dropping his arms and giving up.

' _ _You'll never get anywhere like that.__ '

He sits up as Arthur comes in, looking pointedly at his ice covered hands.

Of course! Why didn't he think of asking Arthur sooner?

"Hey, you could teach me then? Show me how to control my magic."

The wolf frowns, thinking it over as he lies down by the fire.

' _ _I suppose I could. Better than seeing you waste your time__ and energy __pointlessly failing.__ '

"Yeah, Yeah!" Al agrees, nodding rapidly.

Even though he's pretty sure that was some kind of dig at him, he doesn't care. He'll do anything to finally learn how to use magic.

Arthur raises his head as he lies facing him, looking oddly regal as he begins his lesson.

' _ _Firstly, assume everything that half faced human told you was wrong.__ '

"Half faced? You mean Sadık's mask?"

Arthur glares, ' _ _I don't care for his name, just know that he was wrong.__ '

"Okay, Okay."

' _ _Good. Now just do as I tell you.__ Don't __ask questions, and__ don't __think.__ ' He warns.

When Al nods he continues, ' _ _Magic is not some external force, it is a part of you, like an invisible limb. And using it is no different. Focus not on the magic itself, but on the function you wish it to preform. Like moving a leg, you do not think on the leg, but where you want to walk. Your power is your own, and you must bend it to__ your __will. Breathe, and__ it __shall breathe. Move, and__ it __shall move. Fight, and__ it __shall fight. You and it are one and the same. Own it, as you own yourself.__ ' He dips his head, narrowing his eyes at the knight, ' _ _Now__ breathe.' He commands.

Al does, and watches as despite the warm air in here, his breath comes out in a mist.

Arthur narrows his eyes more, raising himself up.

' _ _Now,__ freeze.'

Al watches amazed as ice creeps out from all around him, freezing over the bench and crawling over the ground. But he's not doing anything, just sitting. He doesn't feel the tingling from before, or the cold of the ice, nothing seems different at all.

And when his mind questions this, that's when he suddenly loses the control he didn't know he had. The slowly creeping ice stops as waves of magic roll out of him, creating icicles all over the room.

He begins to panic as he can't bring it back under control, when Arthur tackles him, knocking him over the back of the bench and the ice stops.

He blinks up at the wolf standing over him, green eyes glowing.

' _ _I told you__ not __to question it.__ ' He glares, while Alfred's mind suddenly feels very sluggish.

' _ _You have the control of a__ pup.' Arthur snaps, green eyes returning to normal.

It takes a good minute for Al's mind to catch up and realise he's been insulted.

Arthur purposely breathes warm air in his face as he turns, going back to his place by the forge.

This is going to be a lot harder than he thought.

* * *

 ** **Authors notes:**** Alfred's learning, slowly, but surely. And Arthur makes for one strict teacher.

Okay so I'm not sure how well I managed to explain what's going on, so I'll try to clarify.

Basically, you can think of it as there are two schools of thought on how to use magic. The first, the way that Alfred was remembering, and what Sadık told him, can be seen as 'direct control'. Were the user directly thinks on the __magic__ itself, and what form they want it to take. The second way, the way Arthur is trying to teach Al, is 'indirect control.' Were the user thinks not about the magic, but solely on what they want the magic to __do__.

Like the example Arthur uses: direct control would be thinking about all the muscles you need to use, and how, in order to move your legs as you walk. Whereas Arthur's way is to simply think about __where__ your going to walk, not about how.

So because Alfred started to question __how__ he was doing it and not __what__ he was going to do with the magic, he lost control and Arthur had to stop him.

Hope that makes sense, cause it sure as Hell melted my brain coming up with it.

This'll all be important later.

And, on that unrelate note from before, since some of you are interested, look out for a short fluff one-shot: **Just another Christmas**. Coming soon to a website near you this holiday season!

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	15. Homeward bound

"Aah! Sofronia your the __best!__ " Alfred gushes as he looks over his now fixed Sky Blade, good as new.

"Well it wasn't easy, believe me. That sword is a lot older than it looks, where'd you get it?" She asks, brown eyes inquisitive.

"It was a gift," He smiles sadly down at his beloved sword, "from my father."

"Huh. Well, whoever made it really knew their stuff, the magic wasn't damaged at all, even though you split the runes. That takes skill."

Alfred's not sure if she's talking about the magic thing or him breaking the runes.

"Thanks. Seriously. I don't know what I would have done if you couldn't fix it."

"Yeah, well just be more careful next time." She grins, "But now that your sword is fixed, I assume that means you'll be off?"

"Yup!" He beams.

"Good, then that means I can have my forge back." With that, she waves as she wanders off, leaving the knight feeling like he's just been kicked out.

Not that it really matters. He sheaths his Sky Blade, switching out the Earth Blade to be his backup, and grabs for the saddle.

"Artie!" Al shouts as soon as he finds the wolf.

Arthur, after getting used to all the towns people staring, took to wandering off on his own. Usually he'd just be outside somewhere lying in a snow bank, but this time Al found him once again being used as a climbing frame by the towns kids.

As soon as he saw the saddle, the wolf huffed, narrowing his eyes.

' _ _Oh, not again.__ '

"Come on, it wasn't __so__ bad."

Knowing that there's no way around it, Arthur just huffs, gently shaking himself free of the children as Alfred holds the saddle out to him, giving in to his fate.

Though, he begins to wish they had done this inside, as not only the children, but everyone around stares as he let's Al saddle him, still hating every second of it.

"Wow..." A small boy gasps in awe as he watches the knight securing the belt around the wolf's underside.

"Alright, I think we're good." He nods at his work, "Mind letting me up?"

Arthur glares, but lowers himself anyway, immediately standing a bit quickly as soon as Alfred is on.

"Ah! Hey!" The knight complains as he's jostled.

' _ _I can't believe I let you put this ridiculous thing on me.__ Again.'

"Hey, it works." He tells him, getting situated better.

Arthur doesn't say anything back to that, they both know it's true.

With a short wave to the gathered crowd, Arthur charges off, and soon they're back out in the open snowy expanse once more.

* * *

For the next two weeks or so, the pair travel south, heading ever closer to Alfred's home and birthplace, the Capital. As the days pass, and they journey further, the snow lessens and gives way to grassy plains and old forests, the temperature gradually warming. Towns grow in size, and more and more people populate the area. They pass through a few, bartering any skins of animals Alfred had managed to save from Arthur after a kill on the road.

It certainly was an odd experience for the wolf, who has only ever known deep snow and jagged rocks all his life. As they had slowly walked through patches of melting snow, soft mud and tufts of grass began to replace all that the wolf knew.

' _ _What... is__ this?' Arthur asks as he stops, eying the small patch of green grass warily.

"It's just grass. Have you seriously never seen __grass__ before?" Al asks, smiling bemusedly as he leans over the wolf's back to look at the grass he's cautiously pawing at.

' _ _I've seen plenty of plants that grow through the snow in the lower plains, but none like this.__ '

"Huh, I guess that makes sense."

Now that he thinks about it, he really never saw much grass in the Ivory Expanse, even during what counts as summer there.

"Well, best get used to it." He shrugs, sitting back, "We'll be seeing a __lot__ more of it from now on."

' _ _Is it safe?__ ' Arthur wonders, and Al can't help feeling amused at the wolf's worry.

"Yeah, it's safe. I mean don't eat it if your not a herbivore, but it's fine to walk on."

Still somewhat wary, but trusting Alfred's knowledge, they continued on.

Another thing Alfred learns, is that Arthur does __not__ like getting dirty. The wolf complaining loudly and for long periods of time whenever they run into a particularly muddy area. From what he can tell from the wolf's angry tirades, the hate comes from a mixture of not liking the cold, wet feeling that sinks through his fur to his skin, actually making him __feel__ cold, and the idea of being dirty in general. But mostly it comes from worry at how it covers his natural white camouflage.

But Al reassures him, in the snow his white fur blends in, but once they get into the forests and plains, it'll make him stick out more, so the mud would actually __help__ him blend in more with the new environment. This seems to work, if only a little. But it doesn't stop the complaining.

* * *

A few days later, they reach a forest that Alfred knows very well.

"Sweet, we're in the outer forest." Al grins happily as he jumps down off the wolf.

Arthur, now half covered with mud sprayed up his sides, looks to the knight questioningly.

"You can't see it for all the trees, but just past here is the northern gate to the capital." He's practically exuding happiness at the thought of being so close to home, "Come on, let's hurry!"

He excitedly jogs through the woods to the well worn path that leads to the city, Arthur walking slightly faster than normal to keep up. His excitement is cut short when not ten minutes later, Arthur suddenly stops, ears flicking forward.

' _ _Wait.__ ' He warns, and Al knows that tone of voice.

"What is it?" He whispers lowly, reaching for his sword.

Sure, these Woods may not be as dangerous as the frozen wastelands of the north, but that doesn't mean they can completely let down their guard, all manner of creatures could jump out at them at any moment.

Out the side of his eye, Alfred watches the wolf as his ears flick about, eyes narrowing as he picks out on sounds beyond the knights range of hearing.

' _ _Something's coming. Sounds like hooves, a lot of them.__ ' He growls lowly.

Quickly positioning himself in a defensive stance beside Arthur, Al strains his ears to pick out on the approaching sounds. Going by the direction of Arthur's eyes and ears, whatever it is, it's coming right at them down the path. But they're down wind of it, so Arthur can't pick up any smells, Al knows, or the wolf would already have told him what it is.

He braces himself as he can here the clopping of hooves, Arthur dropping down defensively as well, ears back and teeth bared in threat, ready to attack. But as the sound grows louder, Al can hear the huff and rattle of a group of horses and riders.

He straightens, lowering his sword and signalling to Arthur to stand down.

And then he sees them, the Kingdoms Patrol.

A group of seven riders trot to a halt in front of the pair, all fully armoured, wearing the royal crest upon their saddles. And at the front of the group, is a face for sore eyes.

"Gil!" Alfred cries, face splitting in a massive grin as he hurriedly sheaths his sword, laughing in joy at the coincidence, "Man is it good to see you!"

Gilbert however, doesn't smile or grin, or even smirk down at him. He only gives the blonde a hard look as he orders, "Seize them."

"Wha?" Al gapes in shock as the other six riders move to surround them, "Gil, it's me!" He cries, not understanding why his old friend is arresting him.

Beside him, Arthur growls as they are surrounded, snapping at a horse that gets too close for his liking.

"Art don't-" He tries to calm the other, reaching to stop him from lashing out.

But his hands are suddenly pulled together and up over his head, golden chains of magic forming around his wrists and leading back to one of the riders behind him.

Seeing Alfred becoming trapped, Arthur lashes out, diving for the rider holding the young knight. But these are Royal guards, and before Arthur can even reach the rider, more gold chains form and wrap around the wolf's legs, pulling them out from under him and causing Arthur to fall to his side. Snarling madly, he attempts to stand but the riders move back, pulling on the chains and forcing the wolf's legs apart, preventing him from being able to stand.

' _ _FUCKING! LET ME GO! I'LL KILL YOU!__ ' Arthur screams, making Al wince as he rages, snarling and fighting back like the wild beast he really is.

But even his ability to snap and bite is taken away, as Al is forced to watch one of the riders weave a golden muzzle onto Arthur's mouth, only making the wolf angrier. Green eyes flashing as he struggles, but no ice of any kind forms. Instead, the chains glow and a current runs through them, shocking the wolf.

"Artie! Stop, stop it! Don't hurt him!" Al shouts desperately at both wolf and riders, looking to the only one not involved for help, "Gil?! Stop it! Why are you doing this?!"

Still with out an ounce of emotion on his face, Gilbert stares hard down at the knight.

"Alfred Feral Jones, you are in direct violation of the King's ruling, and are here by under arrest for treason."

"What? No, Gil! I can explain!" He shouts.

But it does nothing to help as Gilbert nods to the riders and Alfred feels the painful current run through the chains into him.

"Aaah!" He screams as his whole body cries out in pain, beside him, they do the same to Arthur, ten fold.

He drops to the ground as the pain stops, blearily looking back up at Gilbert.

The man frowns down at him, "You should never have come back here." Is the last thing he hears before blackness takes over him...

* * *

"Hmm, that __is__ interesting.."

"Isn't it?" Sadık smirks lazily as he leans on the warm stone walls.

Across from him, the brunette sits back, contemplating all that the masked man has just told her.

"But why should I believe you?" She asks, expression guarded.

"Come now," He shrugs, pushing himself off the wall, "we're friends."

"That means nothing when it comes to you." She counters back immediately.

"Well alright," he confesses, taking a step towards the table she sits behind, "really, it's just good business having you in the know."

"And that means even __less.__ " She accuses, frowning, "Don't try playing any of your games with me Sadık, I know you too well for that."

"Of course you do." He raises his hands in a shrug as he continues his lazy approach, "But what can I say? Your Devil charms have ensnared me."

She scoffs as she watches him lean across the table.

"But really, take it or leave it, it doesn't matter to me." He grins at the woman's judging stare, "I just wanted to give you a heads up, so you'd be on the winning side."

"And which side is that?"

"Why yours Devil girl," He smirks, reaching a hand out to push her hair back, but is stopped as she grabs his wrist in a crushing hold.

"Don't __lie__ to me." She snarls, "Who are you __really__ working for."

It's a statement, not a question. They are both aware that each other knows of the informants lack of loyalty.

Sadık's smirk only grows, even as he feels the bones in his wrist snapping, he increases his skin temperature to blistering levels. The sound of bones breaking and the smell of skin burning does nothing to deter their stand off.

Still acting like nothing's wrong, he leans forward to whisper in the woman's ear.

"Believe what you want, but the time of the Western sunrise approaches."

The sound of footsteps nearing breaks their standoff, the woman releasing him and he casually steps back. He says nothing as he warps away to the sound of knocking.

"Mistress?" A voice asks form behind the closed stone doors.

"Yes?"

The door opens as she wiggles her hand, letting the charred flesh crumble and flake down to the table.

"You called for me?" A tanned young man asks sunnily, not seeming bothered by the sight in the least.

She frowns down at her healing hand for a moment, thinking, before snapping her head up to the other.

"Assemble your best men, I have a job for you."

* * *

 ** **Authors notes:**** Oh dear, maybe Alfred should have thought things through a bit more. Now Gilbert, of all people, has gone and arrested him and poor Arthur.

And what might be going on elsewhere? You'll just have to wait and see.

We're also introducing 2 more characters in this last scene, can you guess who they are?

Merry Christmas or whatever holiday you chose to celebrate! See you all in the new year.

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	16. It falls to us

Three days ago...

A guard sighs, bored, shifting about in his armour as he stands at his post, a seemingly random corridor, in the endless maze of the castle in the heart of the Capital. He's been here for hours and nothing interesting ever happens.

Or so it would seem, until he here's the hard smack of boots on the stone floor approaching. His eyes widen as he sees who it is that is stomping their way through, quickly standing to attention and desperately trying to not make it look like he was slacking.

But really, he needn't have bothered. He could probably have been asleep against the wall and still gone unnoticed by Commander Beilschmidt.

Gilbert glared hard as he stormed through the corridors, knowing the maze off by heart, he let's his feet carry him to the council chamber while he silently rages. He blinks when he finds himself at the doors all too soon for his liking.

Forcing a calming breath, he pushes his anger down, hiding it behind a cocky smirk, then hiding even that behind a straight face, before pushing the doors open and walking in.

"Ah, Beilschmidt, your late." The king says, not even looking up from the papers he's holding as the doors swing shut.

Even though he's not looking, some of the other council members are, so, he bows his head to the royal.

"Forgive me, your majesty, I was distracted whipping some of the newbies into shape."

At that, the King looks up and smiles at him.

"Not _too_ hard I hope. We do need them to be at least _somewhat_ functional."

"Of course." He agrees, taking his seat, two to the right of the man.

"Now that everyone is here, let's get down to business."

Council is a boring affair by any standard, but it is not the bureaucracy of it all that Gilbert hates. No, council is one of the few times he can actually be of some use to the people.

What he _truly hates_ , with a burning _fire_ in the depths of his very soul, is the man seated just two places to his left, wearing a crown of _lies._

As he sits listening to the bastard talk nonsense about taxes and income, Gilbert's hand moves to rest on the hilt of his sword sheathed at his side. To anyone looking, the move may even seem protective, but it's not.

It's tempting, to think he could just pull it free and cut down the tyrant _so_ easily...

But he knows that wouldn't work, not against _him._

He sighs, bored as he moves his hands to flip through the small pile of papers on the table in front of him. He's mostly here to talk defence and report back on any disturbances outside the city walls that might be of interest, not that he ever does.

"...we've heard some disturbing reports from the outlying towns to the north."

That catches his attention and Gil focuses back in on the current conversation.

"What sort of reports?" The King demands.

"Well," The young council man shifts in his seat, squirming under the Kings intense stare, "Apparently, there have been sightings of a crestless knight making his way south and he, according to the people who saw him, had some sort of, well, _beast_ with him."

"He WHAT?!" The king roars, standing from his seat.

"This is only rumours of course." Another member, an old gray haired man, tries to placate the royal.

Furiously, the King turns to Gil.

"Beilschmidt! Why have I not heard anything about this from _you?!_ "

"Because _I_ have heard of no such tale." He reassures, turning to glare at the younger man who first brought this up, "If such a thing _was_ true, _I_ would have heard about it _long_ before now."

"Beilschmidt is right my liege, these are simply unfounded rumours and hear say." The only woman of the council agrees, managing to put the King at ease, if only slightly.

Still, the royal frowns as he sits, turning to Gilbert.

"I do not like it. Such rumours, even false, should not exist." He grumbles, "Beilschmidt, I want you to ride out and put such nonsense to bed. _Permanently._ Prove for _certain_ that this is a false tale." The commander nods, "And," The King continues dangerously, "should you find such a knight, you are to kill him on sight. Do I make myself clear?"

Standing, Gilbert bows to the man.

"I shall make preparations at once to ride out first thing in the morning."

"Good. Council is dismissed." The King concludes.

* * *

Matthew sighs tiredly as he roams the underground archives of the Capital. Books, texts and manuscripts of all kinds are housed down here, and for the last year and a half, it has been his job to manage it all. As Head Book Keeper of the kingdom, he thought he'd have it all worked out by now.

But instead, he _still_ hasn't mapped out all of the place. There _are_ records and maps that _do_ exist for down here, but all, much to his dismay, are out of date or just plain wrong. How he'll ever find anything of use down here is beyond him.

Well, not quite. He _has_ found some _very_ useful things, but that was back when he was just an apprentice and he could wander about freely without having the record _everything_ he sees.

Somewhere behind him and several levels above, the only door in bursts open.

He snaps his head up, quickly hiding anything that might be incriminating, but when the sound of footsteps start hurriedly making their way down to him, he sighs in relief. Their's only one person in the whole Capital that would willingly come down on their own without first shouting for him to come guide them.

It doesn't take long for the flickering orange glow of a torch, and a fainter solid glow of red, to shine through the maze as the other nears.

"Gil, what's up?" He asks, smiling at his friend.

But the smile quickly fades when he sees how worked up the other is.

"What is it, what's happened?" He asks more urgently as he looks past him, just in case anyone has followed him down.

"We have a problem." The commander sounds gravely as his eyes stop glowing and he hooks the torch into a hold on the end of one of the many nearby bookshelves.

"What?"

"Alfred."

"A-Al?" Matt stutters, surprise to hear his brothers name.

"He's on his way here, _right now._ "

"But... that's impossible. I thought-"

"Yeah, so did I."

"Gil, you've _never_ been wrong before."

"I _know._ " He grumbles, glaring into the darkness.

"Are you sure?" Matthew asks, somehow sounding a strange mix of hopeful, desperate and worried.

Gilbert sighs heavily, "I don't know."

"Then?"

"There was a report in council, of a crestless knight and a _beast_ of some kind heading straight for the capital from the north. Who else _could_ it be?"

The blonde stares. This isn't right, it's too soon. Al...

This isn't meant to happen...

"But..."

"I _know_ Matt!" The albino cries, waving his arms out.

A silence falls over the pair, only disrupted by the crackling of the torch fire burning.

"Okay, Okay, let's think about this." Matthew eventually says, trying to focus on what to do, "If it _is_ Al —which at this point, we still don't know for one hundred _percent_ that it is— then we _need_ to make sure the king doesn't find out about him."

"It's too late for that, the Bastard has already ordered me to kill the knight should I find one, Alfred or not. I'm riding out first thing to intercept him, I'll try to go alone, but I can already tell I'll be made to take a patrol with me."

Matthew frowns, thinking this information over, "Then, Al's going to end up here one way or another..." He murmurs.

While he thinks, Gilbert takes to pacing, not liking this one bit.

Suddenly the blonde looks to the knight, eye's full of determination, the makings of a plan clear to see.

"Then this is what we'll do."

* * *

Present day...

Gilbert glares hard forward as he rides out front of the patrol, the sound for the horses hooves and the clang of armour do nothing to cover the much more noticeable noise of the two bodies being dragged along behind them.

Every so often, he flashes his gaze to the other riders, silencing them all before any of them can even _think_ about speaking up. They're curious and worried. Why are they not killing the knight and beast? They have orders from the _King_ to kill, yet their commander has order capture, not death.

Looking over his shoulder, he sees Alfred, still unconscious, being dragged on his back by the chains around his wrists and the wolf thing on it's right side by the four around it's legs.

He forces himself to look away or he might just end up doing something stupid.

He has to remember the plan...

He just hopes they can pull this off...

* * *

Alfred groans as he wakes up, his whole body is absolutely _aching_. He wonders if he should be concerned about the amount of passing out he's been doing lately. But that thought doesn't last long as, when he tries to move a hand to rub at his face, he finds he can't.

Blinking blearily, he realises he's in near complete darkness, only a distant fire glowing somewhere he can't see providing him with the poor lighting.

And his wrists are held together by manacles chaining him to a stone wall...

He's in a dungeon, just great...

As his eyes adjust, he looks around, and recognises the place.

He's in not just _any_ dungeon, but the Capitals...

He's home, though, not how he planned.

But even this glorious, while slightly worrisome revelation is quickly forgotten as he realises he's alone. The cell he's in is large, it could easily hold both him and Arthur, but the wolf is nowhere to be seen.

"Arthur?" He calls out to the corridor past his cells bars.

"Artie?" Hearing no responds, he twist from his awkward position sprawled out on the floor —no wonder he hurts all over— chains rattling loudly with the movement, and stands, hurrying over to the bars to look out.

He doesn't get all the way there though, as the chains limit how far he can go, clinking as they are pulled taunt.

"Argh, stupid," he grumbles, tugging his wrists as he twists around to look out, "Artie!"

His voice echoes of the cool stone walls, but he receives no response.

He's worried, where could he be?

Dully, he realises he's never woke up by himself since meeting Arthur. For about a month now he's always had the wolf next to him, always...

He's never been this far away before, far away enough that he can't hear him.

That he doesn't know where he is...

" _Artieeeeee!_ "

...nothing...

He tugs harder on the chains, making them rattle even louder as he struggles hopelessly to get free, feeling himself start to panic.

Where is he? What have they done with him? What, what if they...

No!

They wouldn't, they...wouldn't...

He shakes his head wildly, trying to rid himself of the thought, but finds it stuck there.

" _ARTIIIIEEEEEE!_ "

* * *

 _Arthur ran through the freshly fallen snow just outside the den. It's summer now, and he's finally old enough to leave the den by himself. The cool fresh air and lack of parental guidance feels so freeing, he can't help but happily run around._

 _But his fun doesn't last long, as soon the shadow of his elder brother falls over him._

 _'Having fun in the snow?' He goads the pup._

 _Crouching low, Arthur stares up at the elder, before quickly rolling onto his back submissively when seeing the others disapproving stare._

 _Alistair shakes his head at him, then smiles cheekily._

 _'Still such a pup. Come on, I thought you were supposed to be old enough to go hunting with the pack now?'_

 _'I am!' He barks defensively._

 _Just because he wanted to have a bit of fun before they headed out, his brother thinks he can look down on him._

 _'Sure you are.' The elder laughs, 'Then get moving.'_

 _With out waiting for him, Alistair charges off after the rest of the pack, leaving Arthur to catch up._

* * *

 _Since it's summer, the pack head to the foothills for the hunt. Prey, as his family have been busy teaching him, enter the outer limit of their territory at this time of year. So, they will hunt as much as they can before it all moves off. What they don't eat, they'll store throughout their territory for next winter._

 _But even though Arthur's been allowed to tag along, he's still too young to actually take part. So when he catches up, Alistair is waiting for him. He orders him to hide in a snowdrift and watch, while the elder moves off to take up his position for the ambush._

 _Arthur lies low as he eagerly watches his pack work together. Eyes twinkling with wonder as he stares at their combined casting, trapping hundreds of smaller creatures that flock into their path. He doesn't know the names for all of them yet, but he_ does _know that they all taste good._

 _But while the pack is distracted with the hunt, from his vantage point, he sees something moving through the snow. It looks small from how far away he is and compared to his auntie that it's moving towards, so he doesn't think it's dangerous._

 _That was the first time he saw a human, and the first mistake he ever made._

 _He was too late in his warning howl, too late to stop what he couldn't have known, but blames himself for._

 _The human attacked with magic he didn't know others could have, and the howl of pain his aunt gave out drew the packs attention. But he didn't see much of what happened next, as suddenly Alistair was carrying him away by the scruff of his neck._

 _His auntie never made it home._

* * *

Arthur awoke to his own whines and quickly silenced himself.

Remaining still, he listened to his surroundings and quietly sniffed the air. When he heard nothing and only smelt dampness, he cracked an eye open to carefully look about, but was met with near darkness. His excellent night vision the only thing allowing him to pick up on the faintest of natural light leaking in from somewhere outside.

He tries to move, to get up and find out where he is, but can't. His legs are bound together and when he tries to lift his head to look, he realises than something is on it, clamping his mouth shut. Panicked, he scrabbles about uselessly, tugging and pulling at everything holding him down, but to no avail.

His heart races as images bleed into his vision.

 _Trapped..._

 _He can't move..._

 _Blood..._

 _So... much... blood..._

 _Is it his?_

 _He doesn't know._

 _Everything_ hurts _..._

 _That sound..._

 _Not again..._

 _They have to move..._

 _They..._

 _'Peter?'_

 _He tries to look, but can't..._

 _No..._

 _The fur next to him..._

 _Soaked red..._

 _That's..._

 _'Pete?'_

* * *

He shakes his head, closing his eyes to the nightmare of his past.

He struggles harder, tries to use his magic, but the binds holding him shocking with double the force of any he tries to use.

In pain, barely able to move or see, he stills, panting.

...He's trapped...

...He's alone...

...He's scared...

* * *

 ** **Authors notes:**** And I'm back! Happy New year!

Have a "nice" chapter for the slight absence, but I wanted to focus on getting chapter 2 of my game out. But that's done, so my fics can have my full attention again.

And look! Gil and Mattie get to have the spotlight for a bit.

So yeah, stuff is going down here. We're about to enter into the second major arc of this story, so stick around for that.

If anyone can figure out where I'm going with this you get a cookie.

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	17. Breaking out

In the near darkness of his cell, Alfred sits heavily down on the smattering of straw and a _very_ worn piece of jute matting that makes up his sorry excuse for a bed in here, forcing himself to calm down.

He needs to focus, and figure out a plan.

As he breathes deeply, his panic subsiding, he realises something. While _he was_ panicking, part of the fear he feels isn't his. He blinks, thinking himself a complete idiot for not realising sooner. It's faint, a creeping feeling at the back of his mind, sitting in the pit of his stomach, but it's definitely there.

He would smile in relief at that, since that means Arthur is still alive somewhere, which is good, but it also mean that the wolf is scared, which is not.

He's not sure if it'll help, but he concentrates on calming himself completely, and hopes that Arthur will feel it and be calmed too.

But that would only be a temporary fix, what he really needs to do is figure out a way out.

Frowning, he stares at the bars across from him.

"Hmm, Gil through me in here, but why?" He voices his thoughts into the silence.

"He said it was for treason but..."

That can't be right. Alfred has known the albino Commander for years, and this just isn't like him. Even though he's his superior —or rather, was— the man became a good friend of his. There have been _plenty_ of times during his training when he got tangled up in stuff, and Gilbert had _always_ listened to his side before making any judgements.

To throw him in jail, without first _at least_ hearing him out...

Not to mention, the last thing Gil said to him has been bugging him since he woke up.

 _"_ _You should never have come back here."_

Two years ago, Gilbert told him he did everything he could to convince the King to lessen his punishment, that he tried desperately to convince him not to exile Al, but he wouldn't be persuaded. When he left, Gilbert helped him get everything he needed before he went, no matter what. He promised him he'd keep an eye on Mattie for him, and that he'd look forward to the day they would meet again. So he should have been _happy_ to see him.

"Something isn't right here..."

Add to all that, he's been awake for sometime now, so someone should have came for him by now to drag him before the King. It's not like they wouldn't know, anyone within a five mile radius probably heard him shouting. So, where are the guards? _Someone_ should of been here by now, if only to tell him to shut up.

He shifts about, uncomfortable and a little cold, the chain rattling with the slightest movement. He's been stripped of his armour and weapons —now barefoot in only his undershirt and trousers— and the chill of the dungeons is starting to get to him. If he still had his stuff, he might have been able to wrangle something out that he could use to pick the lock.

He sighs, frowning down at the manacles. His wrists are seriously starting to hurt being bound for so long.

"Wait..." Looking closer, he notices something.

The manacles, while heavy and annoying, are just plain old iron. He twists and turns them around to look at every angle, but nothing. There's no runes on them, not even a basic inscription. And, though his skills are still pretty limited, he can't sense any magic from enchantments on them.

"Which means..." He starts to grin.

They're not magic resistant restraints. Gilbert doesn't know about his magic, he didn't put him in the cells for mages, just the regular ones.

He flexes his hands as he tries to get more comfortable so he can focus.

He can do this.

He may not be the best at it, nowhere near as good as Arthur, but this much he's sure he can pull off.

Holding out his wrists, he stretches his hands out as he focuses on the cuffs.

"Just focus on what I want the magic to do." He reminds himself.

Concentrating, he imagines the manacles freezing, becoming brittle by the cold and shattering.

Over the past few weeks, he's gotten better at his control, but his precision and skill still needs work.

Slowly, the ice forms, creeping over the binds and up part of the chain, but it also spreads over his wrists and up his forearms. It's a good thing that mages aren't effected by their own magic, or he'd have a serious case of frostbite by now.

Despite his lack of skill, he still manages to freeze the cuffs, the dark metal shining in it's coating of ice, but they don't shatter.

Not one to let a little set back stop him, Al quickly stands. Looking around, he grins as he spies the hook-points where the chain is attached to the wall. It's a little above his head, but he can still reach, so, he lifts his wrists, and repeatedly smashes the bonds against the hook. Made brittle like he planned, it doesn't take long for the manacles to shatter, finally freeing his hands.

He sighs happily as he pulls his hands free from the broken bonds, rubbing his wrists.

"One down, one to go."

Now freed of the chains, he quickly makes his way to the bars, placing his hands over the lock and freezing it, along with most of the bars it's attached to.

A few good kicks, and he's free.

But using so much of his magic at once is draining, still, he can't stop now. So he shoves the creaking door open, quickly diving out for the nearest cover to hide.

"This is _definitely_ weird..."

Someone _should_ have heard all that, he was hardly quiet about it. So where are they?

Deciding to take his chances, he slowly creeps his way down the corridors.

As he goes, he can't help but smile a little nostalgically. Back when he was only ten and just starting out his training, he had to go through 'initiation'. Really, it was just the older knights way of torturing the newbies. His 'initiation' was to spend a night down in the dungeons, with no torch and no map to find his way. Since he had a day to prepare, Mattie made him memorise the layout.

It's a good thing he never forgot it.

In the dark, only guided by the handful of torches along the walls at odd intervals, it doesn't take him long to find the way out.

He creeps up the stairs, knowing that guards will be posted at the top, just before the door. And sure enough, he finds the group of four men, only...

"Huh."

He easily steps around the men, all fast asleep over the small wooden table. That would explain why no one came down to see what all the noise was about, they're out cold.

Shrugging at his good luck, he silently slips out into the dark corridor beyond, well, as silently as he can with a heavy wooden door that creaks and squeaks.

Now out the dungeons and into one of the corridors of the castle, he keeps to the shadows as he rushes through them. For once he's thankful for his lack of armour as his bare feet make little sound as he runs.

First, he needs to get a sword, then, find Arthur and bust him out. Only once he knows the wolf is safe, _then,_ he'll try to explain himself to the King. It's funny, time was, he would put nothing before his servitude to the King, even his own life. Now, Arthur firmly holds that spot, even before his King, which Alfred never thought anything would, but here he is. He's not sure _when_ exactly Arthur became the top of his priorities, but now he can't imagine it any other way.

Sneaking his way through, Al slips into the armoury and, much to his relief, finds his Sky Blade amongst the racks. Sword now in hand, and quickly grabbing a pair of boots —'cause _damnit_ his feet are cold!— he slips back out and heads for the only place he can think they would keep Arthur.

But as he runs about, he finds it odd how empty the castle is. In all his sneaking, he hasn't seen one other person. Sure, it must be the middle of the night given how dark it is, but there should still be _some_ people, even just the servants, _they_ never seem to sleep.

He considers that maybe he's just lucky, that maybe he's just in a quiet part, but the answer soon becomes apparent as he nears one of the courtyards.

The sounds of laughter, music and singing start drifting through the hall as he gets closer, and, along with the sounds, he starts to see people. The oddly missing servants are all hurriedly dashing about as every one of them has their arms full of food, drinks or some form of decoration. A young girl carrying a plater of hors d'oeuvre rushes right past him and out the open door to the courtyard, not even sparing him a passing glance.

He's about to just head on out and see what all the commotion is, when a middle aged woman grabs him by the sleeve.

"And just where do you think _your_ going?" She demands, balancing a small crate of materials on her hip as she looks disapprovingly at him.

Going by her two tiered dress and age, she's one of the head maids, and going by how flustered she is and how messy her greying bun of hair is, she's obviously in a hurry.

"Uh..." Is about all he get's out, worried that he's been caught.

"Oh you actors are always so flaky. Hurry up!" She snaps, pushing the crate into his arms and waving her hands at him to shoo, "They'll be starting soon, so get going! And take that with you, the stage hands have been harassing my girls for more materials for props, so tell them that's all they're getting!"

"Uh..."

When he doesn't move she huffs, grabbing him by the arm and tugging him down the hall.

"For Gods sake, do I have to do _everything_ around here?" She bemoans.

Not wanting to cause a scene, Al let's he pull him along, soon arriving in an area of the castle he's rarely been to.

The woman shoves a set of doors open rather roughly, and pushes him inside, turning and stomping away.

Inside the room, are a half dozen men and women buzzing about, dressed in costumes or the dark colours of the stage hands. One of them looks up at his entrance and sighs in relief.

"Finally." He sighs, grabbing the box out of Al's hands and disappearing with it through one of the three doors leading off of the room he's in.

But Al doesn't get more than a moment to think on his next move, as another stage hand grabs him out of nowhere and pulls him through a door, into a changing room.

"Found him." She says sounding rather annoyed before disappearing as another young woman takes over, pulling him to a rack of clothes and holding costume pieces up to him.

"Uh, what are you doing?"

She says nothing, choosing to only glare at him as she slaps a hat on his head while deciding which of two belts looks best.

"Ah, so your the new understudy?" A young man dressed up to look like a grey old wise man asks as he moves past, looking through a selection of robes.

"Understudy?"

"Yeah, James is sick, which sucks, and Ross is out of town, so, we needed a new guy. That _is_ you isn't it?" He asks, pulling out a dark burgundy robe and turning to look Al over.

"Um," Now what should he do? He can't say no, or they might get suspicious. So he'll just have to play along for now, "Yeah, but uh..." He stalls, trying to think of an excuse.

Luckily, the other provides one for him.

The man sighs, rolling his eyes as he points to the belt in the girl's left hand.

"Let me guess, Norma just grabbed the first actor she found without checking to see if your any good." He sighs again while the girl fastens the belt around his waist, "Please tell me your at least _somewhat_ decent?"

"Uh, yeah, I can act." He's doing it right now, not that the other two know.

"Good, so you've memorised your lines then?"

"Um."

"Urgh, here." The man groans, shoving a handful of papers at him, "You better learn them fast, we're on in ten."

With that, he stomps off, and the girl tugs him down into a stool on front of a mirror and begins moving about him, pulling the hat off to mess with his hair.

While she fiddles with his look, he flips through the script in his hands, quickly skimming it.

"Oh." He blinks down at the pages.

Now it all makes sense.

The drunk guards, the empty halls, the noise from the courtyard and all the running around the servants have been doing.

And why he's been mistaken for an actor.

It's the mid winter festival for the solstice.

"Is it really that time of year again?" He asks more to himself than anything, not expecting an answer.

"Yeah, funny how that works huh? It's _almost_ like it happens _every_ year, who'd imagined that?" The girl sarcastically drawls as she starts, much to Al's horror, covering his face in makeup.

"Hold still." She snaps when he tries to move away.

Sighing, he gives in, not wanting to blow his cover.

At least he knows what his role is now. It's not hard to work out from his dress, there's only one character in the Winters Hero play that looks like him.

The lead, the Hero.

Alfred can't help but grin, he doesn't even need the script, he's seen this play so many times he knows it off by _heart!_

So when it's time for him to go out, he strides out confidently, ready to preform.

* * *

 **Authors notes:** Okay, so this chapter was a little hard to do, I accidentally wrote myself into a corner not once, but _twice_ while writing this _._ But fear not, for I figured it out and the plot shall progress! Next chapter is gonna be fun, Alfred the Hero of the play, what could _possibly_ go wrong? Mwhahaha...

In other news, FF is shitting on itself. I've tried 4 times now to save and upload this chapter, but keep getting an error message. Hopefully, through my techno wizzardy, it should work this time. So if you see this, let me know.

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	18. Our move

22 hours ago...

Matthew had to hurry. He quickens his pace, breaking into a fast power walk. His soft boots muffling the sound of his steps, and his dark clothes —out of his work robes for the night— aid to hide his form as he hurries down through the moonlit streets.

If his calculations are correct, Gilbert and the patrol will be arriving with the knight any moment now. But he has to be careful and make sure he isn't seen. Something that is a lot easier for him than most, as he has access to both Gil's knowledge and mapped out patrols of the guards through the lower town.

It doesn't take him long to get there, but just as he's about to reach the Northern Gate, he's stopped in his tracks.

"Halt!"

The call comes from behind him and he stops, glancing round to see a guard that should have moved on by now, coming out of one of the buildings he just passed.

"State your business here." He demands, holding up a torch to light the darkened street.

And Matt sighs, he doesn't have time for this.

Turning, he smiles gently as he lowers his hood, revealing himself to the guard.

"Oh, Master Williams." The guard blinks upon recognising him, "What are you doing down here so late at night."

Matt keeps his smile gentle, even as he notices the man let down his guard.

Just what he needs.

"Forgive me. I was so caught up in discussions with a fellow scholar in town, I simply didn't realise the time." He lies through his teeth.

"Is that so?" The man asks, sounding surprised.

"Yes," he nods, "I was just on my way home now."

"But, you where heading for the north gate."

"Oh, was I?" Matthew blinks, acting like this information was a complete surprise, "I must have gotten turned around. All these streets look the same in the dark."

"Ah, then allow me to escort you back. These streets can be dangerous at night." The man smiles, stepping closer, completely buying Matt's lie.

"No need, I can find my own way back."

"I insist." The man presses, taking another step closer to be right beside Matt.

"You do? Oh, well, that would be most kind of you." Smile still firmly in place, Matthew reaches a hand out to the guards arm in a seemingly friendly manner.

As he gently wraps his fingers around the man's arm, he drops his smile, looking the guard dead in the eye.

" _ _But really, that won't be necessary.__ "

The guard stares back blankly, entranced by the Book Keepers voice.

Matthew's voice has always been soft, but now, with his magic flowing through it, it becomes like silk to the ears, warping the mind with his honey sweet words.

To anyone looking, it might seem like an innocent conversation, perhaps even as though he was informing the guard of sensitive information. Not suspicious looking at all. But if they were to get close enough, they would see the calculating look in the blondes violet eyes.

" _ _Now, Why don't you get back to where you__ should __be stationed. Make sure no one comes near the Northern Gate for a while. Oh,__ " he adds, not breaking his gaze with the man, " _ _And forget this happened.__ "

Finally done with his command, Matthew releases the man, turning away. He pulls up his hood and disappears back into the darkness as the guard stares blankly after him. Once he's out of sight, the man blinks once, then turns and walks away, returning to his duties, having completed forgotten about ever seeing the Book Keeper.

* * *

Gilbert glares up at the north gate, waiting for it to be opened. Eventually it does, but rather than be met with the guards, his group are met with a lone hooded figure, and the Commander smiles.

"What is this?!" One of the more uppity knights beside him demands.

Without saying a word, Gil pulls his sword free and slams it into the knights head, knocking him out and causing him to fall off his horse, the magic chain he controlled dissipating.

"Sir?!" Another asks in shock, but get's no further.

The patrol has no time to react as to their horror, their Commander turns on them, knocking them out one by one. Normally, this would be a __somewhat__ difficult task, but as they were all tried and still preoccupied with maintaining their magic binds, it was easy for Gil to take them all down.

"Did you really have to do that?" Matt sighs as he walks over, lowering his hood.

"What?" He whines, jumping down from his horse, "Have to make this look real don't I?"

"Urgh, you __know__ it's harder to manipulate them when their unconscious like this."

"Yeah, But your magic isn't as sturdy doing it on mass, and there's no way they'd have all sat still once they realised what was up."

"Mmh, it would have been quicker." The blonde grumbles as he comes over to crouch by the unconscious body of the first knight Gilbert attacked.

"Speed's good, but we need reliability right now." Gil reminds the other as he tends to the horses.

Matthew doesn't say anything back to that, getting to work instead. He closes his eyes as he leans in close, whispering in the ear of the knight.

While Matt does his thing, Gil finally gives in to himself and goes to check on Alfred.

The young knight is still unconscious, covered in dirt, but other wise unharmed, and Gilbert smiles down at him.

"It's good to see you again kid. Sorry about all this."

The albino Commander continues to be impressed by the speed at which Matt works, as it takes him no time at all to alter the memories of his seven patrol members.

"Gil?" He asks, coming up behind the other.

Matthew stands, staring, at the form of the mud covered giant wolf lying not too far behind the group. From his place, he can only see the lower half of the other knight, Gilbert blocking the rest from view.

Standing, the red eyed man turns to the blonde.

"It's him."

Not waiting a second longer, Matt rushes forward, dropping down onto his knees beside his brother.

"Al..." He sighs the name in a mix of relief and worry.

"Happy family reunion." Gilbert drawls humourlessly, "But the rest'll have to wait, we've got work to do."

Matthew bows his head, his hair hiding his face. Right now, he want's nothing more than to pick up his brother and run away with him. He doesn't know where they'd go, but he'd figure something out.

He could...

He could make Gilbert forget too, and they'd just... disappear...

But that would be running away, and if there is one thing he learned from Al, it's not to run away from his problems.

Standing back up, he nods and raises his head.

" _ _Awaken.__ " He commands, voice ringing with power, and the previously unconscious knights all climb to their feet.

Entranced, they get to work. Taking the route both Matt and Gil had planned out and prepared, they effortlessly avoid all the guards.

Through Gilbert's authority and Matthew's planning and manipulation magic, not a single soul in the Capital saw either Alfred or Arthur being dragged to the dungeons.

* * *

3 hours ago...

Matthew was once again sneaking through the castle at night, this time, down to the dungeons. As much as he can manipulate the memories and actions of others with his magic, doing so is both difficult and draining. Mental manipulation magic is complex, and the spells require a lot of energy to preform, energy which he's never had a lot of to begin with. So he can't get cocky, he has to carefully plan out every time he uses it.

Which is why he spends so much time skulking about in the shadows rather than just waltzing his way around wherever he pleases, his magic is more of an insurance policy than a free pass. Which sucks, 'cause it would be __so__ much easier if it were.

Once at the door to the dungeons he breathes a sigh of relief. From here it's easy. He slips in, greets the guards warmly and offers them drinks for the night.

"To tide you all over until the morning. It's such a shame you'll miss the festival. I hear it's going to be quite the spectacle this year." He acts sincere, pouring each of them the wine, drugged with a sleeping potion.

Task done, he easily leaves them be, passed out over at their watch post.

Now, for the __truly__ difficult part...

* * *

Present time...

Alfred sneaks a peek out the side curtains to look out at the stage. The royal theatre, built into the largest of the castles three courtyards, is all set and ready to go. A wooden back drop painted with an incredibly detailed snowy hillside stands at the back, setting the scene for the first act. On the gantry, stagehands stand at the ready, and beside him, two of his fellow actors stand waiting for their cue.

He's pulled back by an irate stagehand as the signal is given and the show begins.

Lights generated by magic shine down on the stage, spotlighting the narrator as the curtain goes up.

"Long ago, when mankind was still young and new to the world, they struggled to survive in even the most hospitable of places. For in this time of old, magic belonged to the land and the beasts alone. It seemed like man was destined to struggle for ever more, until, one day, that all changed." The young woman dressed in pure white robes recites, before the spotlight on her dims, and another switches to follow the two actors beside Alfred —a man and a little boy— walking out.

Snow falls and wind blows across the stage, all curtesy of the skilled stagehands, no expenses are spared for the royal theatre.

The pair pretend to be walking through a blizzard, before the boy falls to his knees, complaining that he can't go on, while his father continues to urge him on. It seems like just an ordinary walk, if tiring, until a screech fills the room and a beast attacks, killing the pair were they stand, the stage floor turned red with the supposed blood spilt.

The light then returns to the narrator as the curtains fall back over to hide the change of scene.

"Such horror was to befall many, until a hero rose up, one who would change the course of human history, and save us all from despair."

That was Alfred's cue, and so as the curtains part once more, he strides out, walking tall and proud. Before him, the courtyard is packed with noble men and their families, the rich and dignitaries from all over. And above it all, sits the King out on the balcony overlooking the space.

Thanks to the girl who did his make up —darkening his skin with a look of sweat clogged dirt, and his temporary black hair, along with the frayed wide brim of his hat— he's practically unrecognisable.

Careful to alter his voice, just in case that were to give him away, he recites his lines perfectly.

"Curse thee endless winter. Thou haft stolen mine Mother, mine Father, and now, thou haft taken mine own Sister from me!" He cries, dropping to his knees in despair, pretending to cry.

He's probably acting a little over the top, as the crowd show no interest in his display, some even rolling their eyes and turning away.

A cry fills the stage and a fake beast drops down from above.

"Thou beasts are a curse, a scourge upon the land." He stands, drawing his sword, which, he just realised, is still his real one and not fake, so he has to be careful not to harm the actor inside.

Still, he continues, pointing his blade at the descending beast.

"Have at thee! Foul creature!"

The crowd starts to get into it a bit more as Alfred makes a show of his skilled foot work, dodging and parrying attacks at the last second. Finally, after dazzling the audience with is moves, he pretends to slay the beast.

Leaning heavily on the hilt, having pretended to run the thing through into the ground, and panting for effect, he continues.

"I... have slain thee beast... and henceforth... I shall make this vow... upon thine blood, I __swear__ , to slay all thine brethren."

The curtains fall over again and the stage is quickly changed for the next scene, while the narrator continues.

"And it was with this vow, that Man would soon receive his first taste of magic. For the great God Nankeke did look down upon this man, a single human who vowed to slay all his creations, and laughed. But, the lowly Goddess Uparis also heard this vow, and sought to aid the man in his endeavour. However, Uparis was a weak Goddess of gentle spirits, she did not possess the power to help the man, but she was clever."

The curtain rises once more on a temple in the clouds, the God Nankeke sitting on a platform floating above the stage while Uparis sits on the floor, looking up.

"Nankeke, does the human amuse you?"

The God turns one of his three heads to look down upon the other and laughs sharply.

"Of course," The three speak as one, echoing around the open courtyard, waving two of his eight arms dismissively at the other, "Humans are such weak and pathetic things. To slay __all__ my fine creations? Hehe, of course such claims of grandeur amuse me."

"Then you think he cannot do it?" She asks, her long hair of light flowing out on the ground around her.

"Such a thing is impossible." The God proclaims proudly as he lounges.

"Mhm, you are quite right." The small Goddess hums in agreement, hiding her cunning smirk, "The humans stand no chance, they were not blessed with power over nature, as your beasts are."

"What are you suggesting?" The three headed God demands, all turning to look down upon the other.

"I suggest nothing, I only state what is true."

"And that would be?"

"That it is unfair, for one so powerless."

"That is because the humans are not __deserving__ of such power."

"Really? Then, if they did, he would be able to slay your creations?"

"Ha! Never."

"Hmm, I think he would."

Angered by the witty Goddess, the great God Nankeke was tricked into falling for her ploy, inadvertently helping the humans.

"Impossible!" He roars, and the stagehands have really gone all out, making the whole courtyard shake with his bellow, "I shall prove it! I shall gift this human this power, then you'll see, that the weak are __weak__ , no matter what gifts they are given!"

The scene changes again and Alfred makes ready to go back up for the climax of the play, while the narrator cues the scene.

"Through the skilled trickery of the Goddess Uparis, The man was gifted the power over nature. With this new might, he went forth and killed countless beasts."

As she talks, Al makes a show of killing creature after creature, backdropped by a rotating scene through seasons, while the lights made it appear as if it was changing from day to night, and back again, over and over.

"Until one day, angered by the humans continued successes, the great God Nankeke created a new beast, one designed specially to kill the man."

As the light focuses back on Alfred he takes over.

"A thousand beasts I haft slain, and a thousand more I shall slay!" He proclaims loudly, raising his sword over his head.

"Your death is at hand foolish human. Prepare to __die!__ " The God roars from off stage.

It was at this point where everything went horribly, __horribly__ wrong.

Turning to the side of the stage that had yet to be used, Al watched in horror as a massive cage reinforced with magic is wheeled out.

He stares, as inside the cage, Arthur thrashes madly.

If Alfred had been looking, he'd have seen that the audience was __very__ interested in the play now.

Slightly unnerved, the narrator continued.

"The great God Nankeke's greatest creation, the spirit of the endless Winter, was unleashed upon the man."

With that, the lock on the cage was remotely released, and Arthur burst free...

* * *

 ** **Authors notes:**** Oh dear... This might not end well.

But yes, plot __and__ lore all in one chapter, what is this madness?! Things are about to come to a head very soon, but do not fear, for this story is far from over.

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	19. Rage of the wolf

****Chapter warning: blood, gore, violence.****

* * *

The cage door swinging open, with such force that it breaks off and clatters to the ground, sliding to hang off the edge of the stage, snaps Alfred out of his stupor and he jumps to the side, rolling away from Arthur. And just in time too, as he feels the rush off air from the wolf ruffle his hair, he turns to look at his friend.

Arthur had lunged from the cage with such force that his front paws smashed through the solid wood of the stage. Had Al been but a millisecond slower in dodging, that would have happened to him, and without his armour...

But he doesn't have time to think on that, as, to his horror, Arthur rips his feet free, sending wood splinters flying, and dives at the poor girl narrator.

The girl screams as her pure white robes are dyed red with her blood.

Alfred's feet are moving before he can fully process what's happening.

With all his strength, he slams himself into the wolf's side. The force is enough to make Arthur stumble, but not enough to stop him.

Not enough to save the young woman.

Arthur, teeth firmly embedded in the girl's right shoulder, yanks his head up, turning to look back and glare at Alfred, effortlessly ripping the girl apart in the process.

And Alfred stands, shaking, as he looks up, completely horrified at the blood soaked and dripping face of the wolf he had come to call a friend. But he's not shaking in fear, rather, from the cold.

Looking down at him, Arthur's eyes are shining as he growls, ears back in threat, part of the girl's shoulder blade visibly sticking out the left side of his mouth as he bears his teeth.

Alfred hadn't noticed it before since he had become so accustomed to the cold, but ever since the moment Arthur broke free, the temperature has been rapidly dropping, and now he can see their breath as ice spreads across not just the stage, but the whole courtyard.

Slowly Al steps backwards, shaking his head, not able to tear his eyes away.

"Arthur... What have you done?" He whispers, voice heavy with shock.

But he hears no voice in response, no words enter his mind as Arthur growls louder and lunges at Alfred, mouth open wide. Al stumbles back, tripping and falling over the broken and icy stage to land on his back, staring at the shattered bones and flesh of the girl that fall from the wolf's mouth.

He closes his eyes, turning his head away as he braces to be attacked, only his instincts take over.

Al blinks, looking back up.

His sword, his __real__ Sky Blade was still in his hand, and without realising it, he had brought it up to block the attack, his right hand holding the hilt, his left palm pressed flat against the smooth side of the blade, supporting the other end, the runes glowing their gentle blue as he's pushing back against Arthur's open mouth.

"Arthur stop this!" He shouts.

But still, he hears nothing as the wolf pushes down on him more.

Al frowns, letting him, using his sword to guide Arthur's head up past his, while also pushing himself to slide down and under the wolf. He quickly rolls out from under the wolf, turning, he raises his sword in defence as Arthur turns.

After being slowed with shock, Al's mind is now racing with a thousand questions. Why isn't Arthur answering him, what happened to his saddle, why is one side of him more mud covered than the other, how did he end up here, and why is Arthur attacking him?

But Alfred doesn't have time to figure out the answers as he suddenly becomes aware of the sound of hurried marching.

"KILL THAT BEAST!"

A roaring call shouts and Alfred recognises it as the Kings voice.

He has his back to the courtyard, but he doesn't need to look to know that the guards have come running, and now Arthur is faced with the Kingdoms army, and Alfred is caught in between them.

Arthur's green eyes having never once stopped glowing, shine even brighter as he raises his head and lets out a deafening howl. The air chills more as wind whips up around the wolf and rapidly spreads out, snow forming within, causing the area to be instantly blanketed in a blizzard.

"Arthur!" Al shouts, reaching forward, but only meets empty air.

Despite having only been stood a few feet away, the wolf disappears completely into the storm, the normally sunny Capital now wrapped in a total white out.

The sound of screams and cries of terror fill the courtyard before the stage, and the shouts of the guards barely reach Al's ears over the roar of the wind. He can hardly see his hand in front of his face, but that doesn't stop him jumping down to follow after the sounds.

Fighting through the winds strong enough to knock a man off his feet, Al's eyes widen as he sees pools and trails of red staining the thin layer of white snow on the ground. He feels sick as he nearly trips over the severed arm of a guard, only identified as such by the cracked armour it's still encased in, next to part of a woman's head, the face missing, long hair and bone entangled in the visible brain.

But he pushes on, running towards the shouts of the guards, past dozens of bodies, he finally finds the wolf. Six guards have Arthur cornered between the walls and pillars that ring the courtyard. With their large shields they push the wolf back and trap him, while one thrusts his spear out, aiming for the wolf's heart.

"NO!"

Al runs towards the group, but before he can make it the spear strikes, but instead of piercing, the tip shatters, and while the guards are surprised by this, Arthur attacks. His eyes shine brighter again as he lets out such a deep and terrifyingly animalistic growl, that something deep inside Al's soul shudders at that sound as ice spreads out like daggers in a flash from the wolf, incasing each of the guards in a giant, jagged icicle, freezing them solid.

Arthur growls lowly as he fixes his gaze on the young knight, slowly stalking forward between to of the ice shards. Despite himself, Al stumbles backwards as he meets those eyes.

Eye's devoid of all kindness.

Of all reason.

Of sanity.

Of Arthur.

These are the eye's of a beast.

Of one blinded by rage.

Of a hunter.

Of a killer.

The beast lunges and Alfred raises is sword...

* * *

Meanwhile...

Matthew worriedly paces within the Great Hall. The hall, filled with people from all over the Kingdom and beyond, is large enough to easily hold over three hundred people. And it needs to be, as they've all come to see one thing.

Tightening his hold on the fake book in his arms, Matt turns his gaze from the people to the object of their attraction.

Sitting behind a case of magic imbued crystalline glass, that can only be reached by one __very__ specific spell, on the plushest of red velvet pillows, guarded by four unmoving guards on either side, is the Shard of Talmeré.

The Shard, a fist sized crystal of swimming black mixed with deep royal purple, and specked within by dots of arctic blue, shines in the light of the magic orbs floating high above. It's an extraordinary sight, and also a __very__ powerful magical artefact from the Days of Old. It's only ever brought out of the vaults once a year, for the Winter Solstice festival. The Shard serves as a symbol of the Kings power, and it's use in the High Moon ceremony serves to demonstrate to all just how powerful he is.

No one, other than the King himself and the royal jeweller, are ever allowed close enough to touch it, everyone else can't even get nearer than the twenty feet away that the guards are maintaining at all times.

And they're going to steal it.

He paces more around the edges of the hall, worrying over what he's about to do. The sounds of music from bards, and singing and laughter do nothing to soothe his fraying nerves.

It was one thing to plan this all out, but another entirely to be standing here, minutes away from attempting to steal the Kingdoms most valuable relic, right under the guards noses as well.

What was he thinking?

He needs to find Gilbert, call the plan off and-

In the distance someone screams and the joyful atmosphere of the hall falters as people question it's origin.

And Matt stills with it, before rushing to the massive floor to ceiling windows to look out over the central courtyard. The position is awkward, as he can only see the side of the stage over the roof of the lower part of the castle surrounding the area.

As he tries to see what's happening a gust of wind blows, making the stage curtains flutter, and he gasps, covering his mouth with his hand at the sight that meets him.

One of the actors is standing next to the wolf as it tears apart a girl before his very eyes.

He feels sick, backing away from the window, he accidentally bumps into someone. Whoever it was must have followed his gaze, as soon there's a scream from behind him, and suddenly, the entire Hall is in chaos.

People start to flee in all directions, confused and scared as suddenly ice starts to freeze all over the walls and more screams from outside fill the air. A group of guards go running past the open doors with shouts to hurry and protect the King, and Matt is jostled as people shove past him.

He stares at the doorway, as suddenly there's a __blizzard__ out of nowhere, blowing with such force that it fills the hall, confusing everyone even more.

It's impossible to see anything two feet in front of him, the whole castle must be in complete disarray right now, and the King and all the guards are distracted.

...It's perfect...

Gil must have realise the same thing, as suddenly he's by Matt's side, red eyes glowing.

"Hurry and switch the books!" He somehow shouts the whisper in Matt's ear, tugging him in the direction of the throne, where the __real__ book sits on a pedestal, waiting to be read.

Forcing himself to ignore the horror outside, he nods, and hurries to switch the books. With the true tome in his hands, he silently recites the needed spell within. Gilbert, meanwhile, moves to the now unguarded case holding the Shard. With his specially enchanted gauntlet for just this moment, he reaches through the glass as Matt dispels it, and switches the Shard with a near flawless replica.

"Got it." He says, making his way back to the blonde with his sight magic.

"Then let's get out of here."

"Right. Time to go get wolf boy."

* * *

Alfred, driven by fear and self preservation, swings his sword into the side of the beast. But it does not cut like he expects, instead it __clangs__ , and slides down the creatures side. He let's the blade carry him, moving with it to dodge the jaws of the beast, and as he moves, he sees why his attack failed.

The wolf's fur is frozen.

It's coated in a armour of a million tiny icicles.

But while Alfred was distracted by this revelation, the beast took advantage, twisting it's body as Al moves along parallel to its side, it swings it's tail round, slamming it into Alfred's chest, __hard__.

Sent flying through the air from the hit, Al lands painfully on his back in the blood soaked snow covering the stone tiles.

"Arrgghh!" He grunts in pain, his right shoulder dislocated by the impact.

Dazed and in pain, he isn't able to get away before the wolf is suddenly above him, growling and dripping blood mixed saliva down on his face. He tries to scramble backwards, but the beast brings one of it's large paws down on his injured shoulder, claws digging in to holding him in place.

"Aaaah!" He can't help his cry of pain as his nerves scream at him from the paw pressing painfully down on his shoulder, causing him to drop his sword.

He can feel his heart racing as his breaths come in pained gasps, squinting up at the beast above him.

"Ar...tie..." He gasps out through gritted teeth, "S...sto..p..."

His eye's widen as he's helpless but to watch as the wolf brings it's head down for the kill, going for his neck.

' ** _ _ **Artie...**__** '

He pleads in his mind, in too much pain to even speak, and, miraculously, the wolf pauses, staring down at him.

'Artie?' He tries to ask, but somehow that doesn't seem right, that's not how he did it before.

'Ar- **__**Artie?**__** '

The wolf continues to stare, looking him right in the eye, and Alfred feels like an idiot, realising the answer to at least one of his previous questions.

Arthur's attacking him because he doesn't recognise him.

The makeup, the black hair, he hardly looks like himself, but his eyes, blue and bright though pained, are still the same.

Fighting through the pain, Al lifts his uninjured hand to rub his sleeve over his face, hurriedly trying to remove as much of the makeup as possible. Once he's gotten as much off as possible, he forces out a pained smile.

'It- **__**It's m-**__** e... **__**It's me, Artie.**__** '

The wolf blinks, hot breath with the stench of death puffs over his face as finally, __finally,__ he hears a small distance sounding voice.

' _ _...Al...?__ '

Reaching his hand up to rest on the wolves face, Alfred's smile becomes more genuine at hearing the voice at last.

' ** _ _ **Yeah, it's me. Come back to me buddy.**__** '

The wolf blinks a few more times, before the pressure on his shoulder lets up.

' _ _A-Al... I...__ '

Al watches as __Arthur__ pulls back, removing himself completely from Al as if he'd just been burned, shaking his head.

' _ _I...__ I...'

Glad to be free, but even happier that Arthur has returned to his senses, Alfred sits up, holding his pained and bleeding shoulder, back soaked in someone else's blood, he still smiles at his friend.

"It's __okay.__ " He assures softly.

' _ _No, it's not! I... I was...__ ' Arthur barks back, shaking his head more as if that would free him from the reality of what just happened.

"It is." Al tells him, wincing as he climbs to his feet, "You weren't you for a bit there, but your back now, and that's all that matters."

He smiles softly as he wraps his good arm around Arthur's lowered head, pressing his own to the others, uncaring of the ice cold touch from the frozen fur.

"It wasn't your fault." He whispers.

With all the suddenness of what just happened, Al hadn't noticed he could barely feel their bond, but now that it was back, he could feel __everything__ that Arthur is feeling.

So even though he knows they're standing surrounded by the bodies of countless people Arthur just slaughtered, he can't hate him for it.

Not when he's feeling this scared.

Not when he's feeling this heartbroken.

He won't hate him.

Because it was instinct.

It was fear.

It wasn't Arthur.

He could __never__ hate Arthur.

* * *

 ** **Authors notes:**** Mmh yup, that happened. Happy-go-lucky hero story, this is not.

I left it kind of vague on numbers, but there is a death count here, get it right and you must be psychic or something.

Okay, so I'm trying to not be __too__ graphic here with the gore and stuff, and since I don't want to have to push the rating up, but well, it's kind of necessary to get the right feeling across. So if anyone feels uncomfortable from it, I apologise.

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	20. Truth

Alfred jolted as he felt a tug on the back of his slowly crusting shirt.

"Time to go."

He turns to be face to face with Gilbert and next to him, is his brother he's not seen in two years, looking both worried and determined.

"Wha-" He starts to ask, but doesn't finish his thought as Arthur raises his head, and, upon seeing Gil, growls and makes to snap at him.

"Arthur don't!" Al cries in a garbled rush as he leans on the wolf to stop him.

' _But!_ '

"We don't have time for this, calm your pet and hurry up!" Gil snaps in that commanding way of his as he tugs Alfred's arm to follow.

"What the hell Gil? Wha-" He demands before Matthew cuts him off.

"We'll explain later, but right now, we _really_ have to go. _Now._ "

Gilbert, Alfred's not so sure about anymore, but he knows he can trust his twin no matter what, so he nods and hurries after them, Arthur hot on his heels, not wanting to let Al out of his sight around the other two.

It's only as they start running through the castle that Al realises the Blizzard is still going, having somehow blanked it out when focusing on Arthur.

Led by Gilbert's magic, they weave their way out of the castle and down to the lower town, straight for the South Gate, all while hidden by the blizzard. And the whole time, the ground is covered in ice. Arthur had not just froze over the courtyard, but the _whole_ Capital.

The sheer idea of being able to do something of that magnitude is mind boggling to Al, and it's obvious that both Mattie and Gil are unnerved by it too, as they glance from the ice to Arthur and Al every so often.

Once they're a good distance away from the Capital in the outer woods of the south, they stop.

"Man, I wish we could get out of this blizzard soon." Gil grumbles as he starts to dig between the roots of a seemingly random tree, while Mattie gathers a pair of horses from a magically concealed stable.

"Gil's right. Mind stopping this blizzard Artie? It's hella cold." Al asks, shivering.

Both Mattie and Gil turn to stare as Arthur nods and howls, effortlessly ending the storm.

' _Better?_ ' Arthur asks, sounding tired.

"Much, thanks."

"So it's true then, you _can_ talk to them." Gil whispers in something that's a mix of fear and awe.

"Wait," Al turns to stare at the pair, "How do you know that?"

"We'll explain everything later, but right now we need to make it to the meeting point before the army finds us." Matt repeats, helping Gil pull sacks of hidden supplies out from under the tree roots.

Alfred frowns at the pair, wanting to just demand to be told right now what's going on, but he holds his tongue, choosing to trust the two closest people in his life, even if they _are_ acting pretty shady right now.

Supplies now seemingly all retrieved, the pair mount up and Mattie offers his hand to his brother.

"You can ride with me."

Alfred looks to Arthur, but without the saddle and with is arm busted up, he knows it'd be pretty hard to ride by himself, so he decides to take his brother up on the offer and climbs on.

As soon as he's on, they're off, and Arthur has to go at a light run to keep up with the horses as they race away through the woods.

* * *

Two hours of hard riding later, and they make it out of the woods to the grassy plains where a group of half a dozen people lie waiting on the ground.

At their rapid approach, one of them stands and waves enthusiastically at them with an axe coated in blood.

It's only as they get closer that they realise that the other five aren't napping, but are dead.

They pull to a hard stop and Gil raises an eyebrow at the bodies.

"Toni, what's with the dead guys?"

The brown haired man smiles cheerily.

"It's good cover, don't you think? If anyone unwanted came snooping, they wouldn't expect to get attacked by the dead."

"You really have a weird way of doing things." Gil shrugs at the odd explanation.

"Eh, it works. Now, are you ready to go? Mistress is waiting to meet all of you." He leans to the side to look past Matt to Alfred, " _Especially_ you."

Before Al can ask, Gil gives a thumbs up.

"Do your thing."

Not a moment after the last syllable is out of Gilbert's mouth, the man known as Toni waves a hand and they're all suddenly surrounded by a ring of bright red flames. Al flinches automatically at them, but is surprised when they don't burn. The flames spread out from the man, climbing over all of their bodies, even the horses as they are surrounded, and from behind them, Al watches in wonder as the world melts like wax, shifting away and changing, before reforming as some place else and the flames vanish.

"We're here!"

Alfred blinks, looking around as he feels like he's melting. They're no longer outside the nicely warm Capital, but in the sweltering heat of the _desert!_

"Welcome to my home, the Southern Kingdom of Daská!"

* * *

Thankfully, the man had warped them to just outside a city, and after being lead over a tall sand dune, they were mercifully guided into a large stone building, they were allowed to bathe and change into clothes more suited for the burning heat of outside. Thankfully, inside is much more bearable, though still terribly hot. But the cool water of the bathhouse did wonders in cooling them down, especially Arthur.

The poor snow wolf was not built for this heat and near collapsed as soon as they arrived. It was a group effort to help him to the baths and pull him in. While Arthur lay dazedly in the water with Gil and Mattie, Alfred was quickly treated by a Healer for his shoulder, setting it back in place before he too climbed into the large communal bath.

Gilbert and Matthew had gotten out a while ago, but Al isn't ready to leave yet, not until he's sure Arthur is okay.

He's never had an _actual_ bath before, but was too lethargic to put up any sort of protest against going in, And is now lying with his head on the steps, nose and eyes just above water level, soaking it all in.

"Ya good now?" Al asks, floating behind him on the other side of the bath, still worried about the other.

' _Mmmhmm..._ ' Is the lazily slurred hum of contentment he receives in response.

"Good." Al smiles as he remains behind the wolf.

Part of him is still modestly embarrassed about Arthur seeing him naked, but, after last time, he doesn't think there's much reason to be.

And he _just_ shared a bath with Gil and Mattie, which was _weird._ They must have thought so too, since they got out so quick, or maybe they were just trying to avoid Al asking questions again.

' _Mmh...Aaalll..._ ' Arthur continues to slur dazedly.

"Yeah?"

' _Come heeerreee..._ '

Alfred weighs up his embarrassment against his concern first —finding it's not much of a contest— and swims over.

"Yeah?" He asks as he reaches the others side.

Arthur, much to Al's amusement, flopped onto his side to bring his leg up and pull Al closer, accidentally pushing the young knight under the water, before he popped back up to be held by the wolf against his chest.

Al couldn't help but smile at this much more docile side of the wolf, his fur floating and swaying with the water tickling Al as he's held.

He watches the wolf give him a lazy half smile.

' _Pack._ '

Al blinks.

That one word, said with such endearment, he gets the feeling he's just reached a new level of acceptance with Arthur. That Arthur now, for whatever reason, feels he can trust Al completely.

Something warm spreads inside his chest at that, and he beams back.

"Pack." He agrees, hugging the wolf back.

And as he holds the wolf, he realises he can feel the bond between them has suddenly grown stronger.

* * *

Eventually, once Arthur stopped slurring as any signs of heatstroke disappear, and Alfred, becoming pruny from being in the water so long, decided it was time to get some answers. He smiled in amusement as he watched the wolf climb out, shaking himself dry and sending water everywhere in the process, while Alfred dried off with one of the waiting towels.

Once dry, he turned his attention to the clothes left for him, given his old ones were in no fit state to be walking about in and probably have to be tossed out. The sand coloured tunic that leaves his arms bare is a loose fit, with only a thin strip of leather to act as a belt to keep it in place, and pair of open sandals is certainly a new look for the young knight, but not unwelcome. He's silently glad he didn't have his armour on when they arrived, or he might just have been cooked alive inside it.

When they stepped outside the baths, Gilbert was waiting for them and lead the pair from the bathhouse back out to cross to another building that appeared to be a dining hall. Even though they were outside for less than two minutes, the desert is so hot that Arthur, who had been dripping water and leaving puddles in his wake on the way out, was completely dry by the time they made it into the next building.

Inside, Mattie was sitting, patiently waiting for them at one of the low tables, a platter of food before him. Scattered about the hall a few other people can be seen eating and chatting.

"You'll want to sit for this." His brother tells him as soon as he walks in.

Ready to finally know what's going on, Al sits on one of the low cushions across from his twin, a _very_ fluffy Arthur lying down behind him, and waits.

Gilbert joins Matthews side and the pair nod to each other before Gil looks at Alfred and begins.

"Okay, here's the thing kid." He takes a deep breath, preparing to reveal the truth, "We're going to kill King Momarîs."

...

" _What?_ " He chokes on his own breath at hearing those words, coming out of _Gilbert's_ mouth of all people.

"We're going to kill the King of Talmeré." Matthew states with such seriousness that it scares Al.

"W- _why?_ "

"Because," Gilbert growls, red eyes flashing, "he's responsible for _everything_."

Al watches feeling very confused, and a little afraid at all this talk of killing the king as Mattie places a comforting hand on Gil's shoulder.

"Al, the King is a tyrant. He doesn't _care_ about the people, he only cares about gaining more power for _himself_."

"No, that's wrong." He shakes his head, trying to defend the man he swore loyalty to, "He's a good man. He's always been kind."

"He only _acts_ that way." Gilbert spits.

"He's a good King. He _does_ care about the people, just look at all the Hero stories of the King's Knights. They've saved countless people, towns, villages! He made them to protect and serve the people!"

"All _lies._ "

"No!"

"It's true Al. Every hero story you ever read about them growing up, they're all made up, they're not _real_. They never happened."

"What?" He stares at his brother.

"The Tale of Marceà, Eric's Vow, The People of White Law, all of them, they're made up. Not a single word of them is true."

He stares, mouth opening and closing uselessly at his brother. With Gilbert, he can never really tell if he's yanking his chain, but Mattie, he's _always_ been able to tell.

His brother is dead serious about this.

"Think about it Al, in the two years you were in exile, did you _once_ see another knight? A kingdom patrol? A single _guard?_ In all that time, did you _ever_ even _hear_ of them coming _near_ the tiny town and villages out there?"

...

No... He didn't see anyone. No guards or patrols or knights. It was just him and the towns people.

Just him...

"I was there..." He tries to argue weakly, but he already knows it's pointless.

"Not by your choice, and if things had happened differently, you never would have."

...his brother is right...

"All those stories, of knights being just out of sight, always with in reach when needed, are all fabricated by the Kings order."

"...why..."

"To keep the people believing that it's true. That the King _does_ care, that they really _are_ protected." Gil grumbles, "But they're not. A monster could attack and wipe out a whole town today, and by tomorrow the King would have the story of how the knights fought _bravely_ to save the people, but it would all be a _lie._ "

"That's what he is Al, he's a power hungry King of _lies_."

"...but...why..."

"Because he's _evil_."

"The knights he surrounds himself with are either of wealthy backgrounds or very powerful."

He shakes his head, not wanting to believe any of this.

"Then why? Why do _you_ serve him?" He asks, turning to Gilbert.

"I _don't. I_ work in the shadows to bring him down, while _acting_ as his _trusted_ council and commander."

"But we can't bring him down alone. Dad planned to but-"

"Wait, dad?!" Al asks, cutting his brother off.

"Yes, Dad was a part of all this too. He was among the first."

"The first of what?"

"Take a look around you kid." Gilbert grins at him for the first time as he waves his hands out to their surroundings, "Welcome to the rebellion."

* * *

 **Authors notes:** Welcome to Exposition Central, please keep your hands and feet inside the cart at all times and hang onto the guard rail, this ride is going to get bumpy.

But yup, the main plot is revealed, they're going to kill the King, oh boy!

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	21. Revelations

Rebellion...

Gil and Mattie, the two people he thought he knew best, are plotting against the King...

A King he thought he knew too...

But before he has time to properly process this, the brown haired man from before walks in.

"Ah, there you are." He smiles, either not noticing or not caring for the heavy atmosphere surrounding the trio, "Come, the Mistress is waiting." He states, coming to stand by the side of the table.

"Well she can keep waiting, we're in the middle of explaining things here." Gilbert grumbles, waving the other off.

"You can explain things later, she want's to see you __now__."

When Gilbert makes no move to get up, the other frowns.

"Gilbert-"

"I said-"

"It's fine." Matthew cuts in before a fight can start between the two, "We can go with Antonio now and fill Al in on the rest later, he'll need time to process all this anyway."

"Fine. Let's just get this over with." Gil huffs, finally standing.

Still very much confused by all this, Al gets up and follows after the trio, Arthur only getting up once he sees that Al is.

Again, they're lead outside and through the city. The scorching sun still hangs high in the sky, beating down on the sand and stone of this desert Kingdom, and Alfred wonders how anyone could live here. All the buildings here are made of an off white stone, reflecting the sun and heat, along with small windows built high in the walls helps to keep them cool, making indoors somewhat bearable. But there is no stone paths or roads between them, only the red sand in which they sit, with foot prints trailing where the people walk.

They travel down what Al guesses would be the Main Street —simply from all the buildings lining it and the more compressed sand creating what can barely be considered a dirt road— to a slightly larger building at the end of it that kind of looks like a three tiered pyramid with the top cut off.

By the time they get inside again, Arthur is panting heavily and Al feels like he needs a bath again from how much he's sweating.

"It's way too hot here." He complains, sighing in relief as soon as he gets in.

"You'll get used to it." Mattie tries to reassure him, but he too looks about ready to collapse.

They follow Antonio up to the top floor and down a corridor to a set of large stone doors. Though the hallways are wide, the roof is low, so the place is a bit of a squeeze for Arthur, the wolf having to crouch and shimmy his way along the narrower places. Al want's to ask if he's okay, given how tight of fit some of the places are, but ever since the bath, Arthur has been oddly quiet, so he decides to let the wolf be for now.

Up front, Antonio gives the door two sharp knocks, then waits to be called in.

"Enter." A female voice calls and the brunette pushes the doors open.

Inside is a single spacious room, with a large rectangular table in the centre, covered in papers and maps, and a desk at the back, filled with even more piles of papers, books and scrolls.

They all pile in, the room thankfully large enough to hold all of them easily, even Arthur, but Alfred doesn't care about that right now, as he stares at the rooms only occupant.

Seated at the desk is a long brown haired woman, with slightly tanned skin and green eyes, dressed in, from what Al can see, a dark green loose tunic with a breastplate over it.

But that's not what catches his attention.

No, what he stares at, is the two, large, folded, leathery winds behind her back.

As the doors swing shut behind them, she looks up and immediately frowns.

"So your here then." She grumbles, putting down the scroll she was reading.

"Nice to see you too." Gilbert drawls back full of sarcasm.

"Hardly." She glares, standing and rounding the desk, "What the __hell__ Beilschmidt, what happened to the plan? You said __six__ years. It's only been __two__." She demands angrily, wings twitching with her rage.

"Hey, don't blame me." Gil huffs, crossing his arms as he meets her steely gaze, "You should be asking Sadık that, he's the one who should have been keeping the kid in check."

"No you idiot! This is why I said __not__ to rely on him, he can't be trusted! But did you listen? No! You just went ahead and gave a key roll to a man who's only loyalty is money." She shouts.

"It was necessary!" Gil shouts too, both getting caught up in their argument, "He's the __only__ one who can cross the Borderlines without detection. I've seen it, he __has__ to be involved."

"Then involve him, but don't rely on him! Now because of __your__ fuck up, we're screwed!"

"We're not __screwed!__ We can still pull this off!"

"Oh really? Then that must mean you got your power back, because that's the __only__ way we'd be able to salvage the __fucking__ mess you've made."

"You know I don't." Gilbert growls lowly, eyes flashing.

"Then what the __hell__ are you playing at?!" She screams, wings and arms spreading, "I don't even have __half__ the men we need, and we haven't even __begun__ to work on the alliances!" She shouts, before suddenly calming, "Face it Gil, the plan's dead in the water. It's over before we even started."

"It's not."

"I know you want revenge as much as I do, but we can't win anymore, the plan's done. I'm pulling out."

This makes Gilbert's anger fizzle out to be replaced with shock.

"What? Liz, you can't."

"I don't have a choice. We've gone off track, I can't provide the assurance of knowledge anymore, not when you can't See."

"That doesn't matter." He shakes his head, grabbing Liz by the shoulders and stares at her with eyes filled with determination.

"Even if the plan's a bust, even if I can't Foresee anymore, this is still our best shot, and we __have__ to take it. For them."

Silence passes through the room as the pair stare at each other.

"Alright," She finally agrees, smiling, "Plan or no plan, let's do this. For them."

She continues to grin as she pushes his hands off her, turning to look at Alfred.

"Now that that's sorted, I assume this is him?"

She asks curiously, walking up to Al, as if they hadn't just had a screaming match.

"Yup." Gil grins as he too, turns to look at Al, while Matt moves to the side, leaving only Antonio standing next to him and Arthur.

"Allow me to introduce you," Toni smiles sunnily at him, as if what had just happened was completely normal, "This is the Mistress of the Kingdom of Daská, Lady Elizabeta Héderváry, Demoness of the Four Sands."

Alfred's eye's widen, looking between the two brunettes. Despite the grand title, Antonio had said it with such a casual air, Alfred could hardly believe it. As his mind whirs, Al realises he's __technically__ standing before a Queen, though she wears no crown or robes to distinguish her as such, the title is certainly telling of it, so he hurriedly kneels.

"M'lady, it is an honour." He voices, bowing his head in respect.

There's a beat of silence in which Al worries he's insulted her is some way, but he most certainly doesn't expect the raucous laughter that follows. He blinks, looking up to find the demoness doubled over in laughter, holding her stomach as she tries to contain herself, and looking around, the others are all grinning too.

"Uh..."

"Liz ain't no Queen dummy, there's no reason for you to be bowing like that." Gilbert explains, grinning at Alfred's quickly growing embarrassment.

"Pffff, Despite the title, I am, hahaha, of no royal blood." Liz gasps out between laughs, slowly getting herself under control, "I ask no man to bow for me, though it is nice to see that chivalry is not dead yet."

She grins down at him, offering her hand and pulling him to his feet, then releasing him.

"All I ask is for their sword and vow to fight by my side. The King of Talmeré is a power hungry fool, and it is time we cut off the head of the snake." She looks at him seriously, offering her hand out to him once more, "Alfred Feral Jones the third, will you lend me your strength and fight to end King Momarîs' reign of terror?"

Alfred blinks at the sudden request, having only just learnt of Gil and Mattie's goal, now he's being asked to join it?

Then, he realises something else.

"Wait, how do you know my name?"

It's Elizabeta's turn to blink, lowering her hand and looking to Gilbert.

"You haven't told him yet?"

"We were __getting__ to that, before Toni dragged us here cause you were __so__ impatient to have a screaming match with us."

"Told me what?" Alfred's getting the feeling that whatever 'it' is, he's not going to like it.

The demoness looks to him and shakes her head.

"Alfred, you are the Ordained Key, the Path Forged, the Blood Bond to sever the Hold of Ages. You are the Sword by which the Snake shall be felled."

There's a heavy air as she tells him this, but it all goes over Al's head.

"Am a what now?"

The group sigh as Alfred clearly doesn't understand what they're trying to tell him.

"Your power Al, the __Domino bestia__ , is a unique type of __Magia__ passed down a family bloodline. It's extremely rare, and expression of it by those that carry it only occurs under __very__ specific circumstances." Matt explains, coming to stand beside him.

"Wait, wait, wait. How do you know about my power, and more than I do?"

"From Dad's journals, I pieced together his hidden writings, but it was Gil who told me how it works."

"Huh?"

Alfred is now even more confused by all this.

"How does __Gil__ know?"

"Because I was like you, not a __Domino bestia,__ but I had a bloodline __Magia,__ the _ _Haruspicem,__ the Soothsayer."

"Gilbert was able to foresee the future, and act accordingly to change events to create a new one, one that better suited our wants and needs." Liz adds, moving to the table to look over a map.

"Was?"

"I could before, but I can't anymore, my power is gone." Gilbert grumbles sourly, looking away.

"It's complicated." Mattie adds, shaking his head.

The group falls silent again, clearly all thinking about something, leaving Al to process all this new information.

They all know about his power, which __does__ explain why no one here has freaked out about seeing Arthur, other than a quick glance, not a single person has given much of any kind of reaction.

Because Gil told them... 'cause he knows about it already...

Suddenly it all clicks in Alfred's head and his eyes widen.

Gilbert knew... before he did.

He knew when he through him in a cell not meant for mages, knew when he arrested him, knew that he was coming back to the Capital. He knew before he met Arthur, before his exile.

He can change events, alter the outcome to be...

He must have known back then too...

No, he didn't just __know__ he __made__ it happen...

Poor Randull...

The mistake he made and has been blaming himself for, for the past two __years,__ it was __never__ a mistake...

Specific circumstances... changing events...

Gilbert... who has always been there... guiding him...

No...

 _ _Manipulating__ him...

"Gaarrhhh!" He screams in anger as he launches himself at the albino, tackling him to the ground, "You Bastard!"

"Argh! Al! Ah! Fuck!"

They roll on the hard stone floor as Al tries to punch Gilbert in the face and knee him between the legs, while Gil tries to push him off.

"Randull! My exile! It's __your fucking__ fault!" He screams, getting a good jab in on the red eyed man's side.

The others look up surprised, before quickly moving to break up the fight, or they would, if not for Arthur jumping in, biting down on Gilbert's right arm as he rolls to be on top of Alfred, and roughly pulling him back.

"Argh! Fucking!" Gil swears in pain as he's pulled back into an awkward sitting position before Al lunges at him again, punching him as he's held in place by the wolf's jaws.

"You fucking Bastard! You ruined my __life!__ "

Despite having one arm trapped and about to be ripped off, Gilbert is not one to sit still and take a needless beating. He leans back as Alfred jumps for him, quickly lifting his legs and kicking Al in the stomach, sending him sprawling backwards. He then twists and rotates around his trapped arm, getting into a kneeling position facing the wolf and uses his magic to temporarily blind the wolf. In the moment of confusion and panic by the blinding, Arthur lets up the pressure on Gil's arm, and the albino Commander uses that split second to free himself, prying the wolf's jaws open with his magic and rolling away to safety.

' _ _Al?! Al where are you?!__ '

Hearing Arthur's panicked voice for the first time since the baths, snaps Alfred of his anger at Gil, as he scrambles over the floor to the wolf.

"Am here, am right here."

' _ _I can't see...Al... I can't see...__ '

The only sound the others are able to understand from Arthur is the panicky whine he makes as he desperately presses his head into Alfred.

"What the hell did you do to him?!"

"I only blinded him, it'll wear off in a minute. Fuck! That hurts..." The albino grumbles by way of explanation as he holds his bleeding arm.

"You. Fucking. Bastard!"

Alfred makes to lunge for him again with renewed anger, but is stopped by both Matthew —pushing against his shoulders—and Arthur —wrapping a paw around his body— holding him in place.

"Al don't!"

"Why?! It's his fault! He's the one who made sure I'd be on patrol that day! He's the one who cause Randull to lose his arm and leg! He's the one who made me have to leave you all alone for two years! He made me get exiled! He ruined my life!"

"I know." The calmness with which Mattie says this causes Al to falter.

"Wha- you do?"

"Yes, he told me everything, the day you were exiled. He explained it all, and, I agreed with him."

"What?"

"You had to be exiled. In order for you to awaken your power. And so that you would be safe."

"Safe? Arthur tried to __eat__ me the first time I saw him! I almost died!"

"Don't be so dramatic, you weren't going to die."

"Easy for you to say!"

"It's true, Gilbert foresaw the future and altered the events that would have happened to save you and in the process meet a beast you would Bond with."

"...Save me?"

"If I hadn't done anything, you would have died on your third patrol to the west." Gilbert explains, glaring, annoyed at Al, "Your death would have just been as pointless fodder for the King, and he wouldn't have even bat an eye at it. Like so many others, like Ludy."

All of Alfred's remaining anger disappears at that.

"I didn't ruin your life kid, I saved you."

* * *

 ** **Authors notes:**** Welcome back to Who's dead? This week it's Ludwig!

Sorry Germany fans, but it's Plot, evil, evil Plot.

And there you have it folks, from the very start, Gilbert has been behind everything. Well, up until Sadık messed with the plan that is.

And Hungary's here! The devil girl herself, basically she looks the exact same as normal, only with demon wings, because Plot. She and Spain are working together in the South, and we'll touch more on Spain's role later.

Job interviews are stressful, thus, this chapter is my decompression.

Maybe I'll get this one... maybe not...

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	22. How can I look at you the same way?

Alfred sighs heavily as he rolls over in bed, unable to fall asleep.

What a day this has been.

Or days, really. He's still working over how long it's been.

What he thinks was morning —when Gil arrested him on his way back to the Capital— was actually four days ago now, since it was night when he broke out, and add to that, that the fire warping used to get them here wasn't instant like it seemed. He's still trying to get his head around that, Mattie's explain it three times already, but he's still confused. How can something feel like seconds to them, but actually take days to happen?

He sighs and rolls onto his belly, throwing his arm out to hang off the side of the bed and let his fingers run through soft fur.

Beside the large bed, lying on a pile of soft rugs, Arthur sleeps.

After Gilbert's magic wore off and Arthur could see again, he had become overly protective of Alfred, pulling the knight under him and growling threateningly at the others.

The whole thing quickly developed into a mess of Al trying to calm the wolf, explaining to him what's going on even though he still doesn't fully understand it all, while Mattie tried to tell him more, with Gil storming out, shouting back something about fixing his arm, with Elizabeta asking if he'll join them, and all the while Antonio stood there smiling as if this was funny.

In the end, they decided to call it a night.

A quiet knock on his room door brings Al out of his musings.

He turns to sit up and squint through the darkness as the door opens and Matthew pokes his head in.

"Mattie?"

"Hey... Can I come in?"

"Sure." He nods, watching as his twin slips in, closing the door behind him.

"I thought you might be hungry, you didn't really get a chance to eat earlier." He says as Al now notices the tray he's carrying.

At the mention of food, Al's stomach grumbles loudly as if in agreement, making his brother smile in amusement, "Your still the same as ever."

"Mattie your a life saver."

His brother makes to approach, but stops before taking a full step, eyes landing on the slumbering wolf.

"Um..."

"It's okay, he's out cold. Just step around him."

Easier said than done, as Al watches his brother creep closer, as if he were about to step on a land mine if he so much as brushed up against the wolf. It takes a minute, but eventually he manages to get close enough to hand over the tray, before just going for it and jumping over the wolf's body to land on his twins legs on the bed.

The pair stare at each other for a moment, Al holding a tray of food up over his head, Mattie sprawled awkwardly across his legs, before they both burst out laughing.

Their giggling tapers off when Arthur grumbles at the sound, rolling onto his back, side pressed up against the bed.

Mattie sits up, moving to the side off his twins legs while Al puts the tray in his lap, using one hand to eat while reaching the other over to pet Arthur's head. It takes him a second to notice Matthew staring at him.

"Sorry. I know Gil and Dad's journals said you could Bond with a beast, it's just... surreal seeing it is all." Matt apologises, watching as the wolf seems to lean into his brothers hand.

"Yeah, I guess it would be..." Al sighs, "It's been __two years__ Mattie. I missed you."

His brother smiles softly at that, "Yeah, I've missed you too."

"I thought..."

What did he think, really? That just because he had Arthur now, he could go walking back in and they'd welcome him with open arms? That he'd just be accepted, just like that?

He was an idiot.

Gil used to always tell him that he didn't think things through, that that was his biggest weakness.

He hates that he was right.

The man he idolised, is a traitor to the Kingdom and has been manipulating him all this time.

He can __never__ look at him the same way again.

But...

He looks up to meet his brothers eyes.

* * *

 _"_ _ _Saved me? I never__ asked __to be saved." He glares, staring the red eyed man down.__

 _ _He can't agree with this, any of it.__

 _ _How could he?__

 _"_ _ _None of us__ ask __for the life we live, we just have to make the best of the hand we're dealt." Gil answers back with cold reasoning.__

 _"_ _ _Make the best of it? Innocent people have__ died __today because of you!" He snaps back, looking down as he mumbles, "Everyone...who...Arthur..."__

 _"_ _ _That wasn't Gil's fault." Matthew cuts in, surprising Al, "It's mine."__

 _"_ _ _What?" He stares.__

 _"_ _ _...You were coming back, well before you should. The King had ordered Gil to kill whoever it was, but we couldn't let that happen." He murmurs sadly, shaking his head and looking to meet his twins eyes with determination, "We had to change our plans, and fast. We had to find a way to protect you from the King, but doing so would compromise us, so, we had no choice but to move ahead and work with what we had. It was my plan,__ I __was the one who made the decision to have you thrown in jail. I used my magic, to manipulate the guards and servants, and you. I made it so you would be mistaken for an actor, so both you and the wolf would be in the royal play."__

 _"_ _ _Why Mattie?"__

 _"_ _ _...We...we needed a distraction, and to get you out, before we lost our chance. I'm sorry. It's my fault all those people died, I made a mistake, I miscalculated. I thought you had total control over the beast, I...I thought... I'm sorry..." He trails off, unable to keep looking his twin in the eye.__

* * *

How can he look at his brother the same way either?

It's not like with him, being unwittingly manipulated.

Mattie is __willingly__ working with them.

His brother's a traitor too...

But...

The King called for his head, for __Arthur's__ head, and he ran...

So...

He's a traitor too...

"Al? I know this must be hard for you to understand, but we __are__ doing this for good reasons."

"You say that Mattie, but..."

"If you won't listen to us, then maybe you'll listen to Dad."

At his confused look, Matt pulls an old leather bound book out of his tunic and hands it to him.

"This is one of Dad's journals that I've decoded. Read it, then give us your answer."

His brother smiles at him, before climbing off the bed, easier to do now that Arthur isn't sprawled all over the place, and heads for the door.

He pauses, just before leaving to look back, "It was good seeing you again." And then he leaves.

Left alone with Arthur in the darkness once more, he sighs.

He knows he's not going to get any sleep tonight, so, he fumbles about to light the candle by his bedside, and starts reading.

* * *

 ** **Authors notes: BOOM!**** I live!

Alfred's still processing, Mattie is felling guilty, and Arthur is sleeping.

Buckle up, we're about to go on a wild ride.

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	23. The journal

**_October 3rd XX62_**

 _Today, for once, is a good day. Today we celebrate._

 _Gerhard has called me to his home, for a day I will not soon forget. The man is often so stoic, it is quite amusing to see him running around like a headless chicken, gushing emotions. You would think having gone through this once before already he'd be more put together than this, but here he is, a complete mess._

 _He's been a ball of nerves for weeks, and now the day has finally come, the birth of his second child._

 _Hannah, bless the dear woman, is far more put together than her husband, unfazed by the man's running about around her. And their boy too, little Gilbert, is even more tamed than his father. The four year old seems to be quite fascinated with the birth, from what Gerhard has told me, he is eager to meet his new sibling._

 _Now I see why I was called to join them, as I set to task, pulling both man and boy away so the midwifes can do their work in peace. Acting like this, you would think I was the elder of the two of us._

 _It is some time before they finish, and not a moment too soon, or I fear Gerhard would have burst in to demand an update._

 _The child, another boy, a second son for my dear friend. Blonde haired and blue eyes, just like his father._

 _He smiles, with tears in his eyes as he tells me his name._

 _Ludwig._

* * *

 ** _October 24th XX62_**

 _Hannah has finally fully recovered from the birth, the strong woman that she is. She has gone through so much, and yet still, she fights on, it is truly inspiring._

 _Little Ludwig is a bundle of joy, and Gilbert simply adores him, already proclaiming himself to be his brothers protector._

 _Perhaps one day, should I have children, these boys may be their friends._

 _But today is not as joyful as it would seem. The Queen sickens more each day, soon, I fear that our enemies will make their move._

* * *

 ** _January 2nd XX66_**

 _I wish that I could write of good things, but little is good these days._

 _The enemy has won, after four long years of struggle, our empty throne has been filled. The man who now calls himself our King, will surely bring nothing but pain and ruin to us all._

 _His first decree is evident of that._

 _He is hunting us down, for what means, I fear never to find out._

* * *

 ** _January 18th XX66_**

 _Gerhard has brought his boy, Gilbert, to our new hideout, and I intend to find out why._

 _It wasn't the plan, but the King is forcing my dear friends hand. The boy is barely eight years old, but it seems we don't have the luxury of time. We cannot wait until he is old enough to be brought fully into the fold, but nor can we tell him everything just yet._

 _So I am to help train him, to teach him, bit by bit, until he is old enough to fully understand._

 _And above all else, hide him, and his slumbering gift from the King at all costs._

* * *

 ** _March 17th XX66_**

 _Gilbert is a fast learner, and now, more than ever, I am certain he has his mother's gift within him. It has only been a few months and already he is showing signs of skill in predictions._

 _But... his red eyes..._

 _As far as we know, the King is not as well versed in the Tells of our kin as we once feared, making it harder for him to find us._

 _But if he were ever to find out, I shudder to think of the fate that would befall this young boy._

* * *

 ** _October 22nd XX67_**

 _It is terrible._

 _Our hideout is no more, attacked by the Kings men. We fought, but we could not win, so we had no choice but to flee._

 _We have lost so many. Countless bloodlines have been snuffed out this night. I thought I was sure to die, I lost my good friend, but my life was saved._

 _Sara, one of the few to survive the attack. We fled together, as she pulled me to keep going._

 _Alone, wounded but alive, we found ourselves in the Old Ruins._

 _Certain of our coming end, it was there, in grass and hay, under the starless night sky we-_

* * *

"Okaaay!"

Alfred quickly flips the page, not wanting to read about how his father got with his mother.

* * *

 ** _November 14th XX67_**

 _For the first time in over six years, I've returned to the city of my home. The Masking is complete, now, we bear no sign that we are anything special. Though I cannot go back to where I once lived, for that would give us away, we still need a home._

 _Sara is with child, our child, and they deserve a proper home to live in._

 _And I swear on my bloodline, that I will do everything to protect them as I once could not for the others._

 _Once we have a home, I shall marry Sara, and maybe, just maybe, we can be happy together._

* * *

 ** _February 28th XX68_**

 _A miracle, today, that is what I have seen._

 _Gerhard lives. His boys and wife too. They are here, in the Capital, living free and happy._

 _I met with him in the tavern and we spoke of old times together._

 _We were both sure the other was dead, it was a shock to see we were wrong._

 _How could this have happened?_

 _Has our desperate struggle to survive been meaningless all this time?_

 _To live free in the heart of the land ruled by one who would see us dead._

 _How many of us had to die so we could pretend to be safe?_

* * *

 ** _March 1st XX68_**

 _We are not free. We are not safe._

 _I was blind to think that it could be so simple._

 _Gerhard knew it, and now I do too. That's what he was trying to tell me yesterday. To leave, to get out before it was too late._

 _And now it is._

 _They found a way to see through the Masking, they must have._

 _Guards grabbed me from the market, dragged me to the palace, before the King._

 _Questions, so many questions, and a simple threat._

 _Obey, or my wife and unborn child will be killed._

 _Family history records altered, and a new name and title slapped on me, then I was released._

 _It's almost laughable, to be named of noble blood and knighted by the very man who we once fought so hard against._

 _Has my whole life been meaningless?_

 _Now, all that remains for me is my family, and I will protect them, even if that means I must become a dog to this man, so be it._

 _It seems Gerhard and I will be fighting side by side again once more._

* * *

 ** _July 1st XX68_**

 _Sara has gone into labour and I shall not leave her side._

* * *

 ** _July 4th XX68_**

 _I weep both tears of joy and sadness. My darling Sara has given me two beautiful boys, twins, but at the cost of her own life._

 _Our first, violet eyed little Matthew, and our second, blue eyed little Alfred, the two names we could not agree on, now they share them both. The guards outside are waiting to hear the news, no doubt so the King can demand his first born serves, as all nobles must._

 _But looking at them, I know little Al is the one with my gift within him. Matthew is too much like his mother._

 _Then, it is as Hannah once said, her prophecy is coming to pass after all._

 _Even if everything up until now has been for nothing, this much I can do, to fight back against what Fate has laid out for us._

 _As far as the King and all his men will ever know, Alfred was born first, not Matthew._

* * *

 ** _September 16th XX73_**

 _Gerhard you fool._

* * *

 ** _November 5th XX73_**

 _I have carried out your wish dear friend, Gilbert now knows everything._

 _His gift has awakened, Hannah's Will lives on within her boy. And yours within Ludwig._

 _Those boys are strong, you have done well._

 _Rest easy, old friend._

* * *

 ** _April 12th XX77_**

 _Gerhard, if your watching, know that your boy is a lunatic._

 _Such a plan, such foresight, even Hannah could not make such predictions._

 _To turn the tide of war singlehandedly, I fear the King may act against him, even if now he talks of promoting the boy._

 _He carries your Will, but if he carries on like this..._

* * *

 ** _January 4th XX78_**

 _It seems like so long ago, but now my boys are turning ten this year, and soon, that means Al will be joining the army. The King continues to have a tight leash around my neck, one I cannot free my sons from, no matter how hard I try._

 _I'm running out of options..._

* * *

 ** _August 20th XX78_**

 _Alfred is now in training, with the Kings eyes on him all the time now, and even Matthew has not been spared like I thought he would. The boy is now in the palace as the Book Keepers apprentice._

 _I have no choice left to me._

 _For my boys._

 _For yours too Gerhard, and all our lost friends._

 _I shall leave all my secrets here, should I fail._

 _It is time I end this._

* * *

And that's where the journal ends, leaving Alfred with far more questions than answers.

"How is this supposed to help?" He complains, flicking back and forth through the pages incase he missed something.

Tired and annoyed, he huffs as he tosses the book across the room. It lands with a thump, waking Arthur, then it starts to glow.

"Huh?"

'Al? What's going on?'

The glow increases in brightness, becoming blinding in the previously dim room, until it suddenly fades.

And there, standing before him, is his father...

* * *

 ** **Authors notes:**** Welcome to the chapter where not a lot happens, yet _everything_ happens.

History and dead people, what more could you want?

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	24. Words of the father

The light fades and the blonde man smiles.

"Hello son."

Alfred stares on dumbly at the figure standing before him. Right there, at the end of his bed, is his dead father.

He tries to speak, say something, __anything__ , but no sound comes out of his mouth.

He's dreaming, he must be.

What he's seeing can't be real.

But he doesn't have time to question it as Arthur growls, jumping at the man.

"Whoa, easy Fierce One."

His father __laughs__ as he effortlessly sidesteps Arthur, patting the wolf's side reassuringly.

"I mean you, nor my son any harm."

Arthur turns to look at the man, now curious rather than aggressive.

' _ _You speak wolf too?__ '

"I speak all things Beast."

"...Dad..?" Alfred whispers hoarsely, finally finding his voice.

The man turns back to him and smiles with a warmth Alfred hasn't felt in over eight years.

"...It...is it really you?"

"Yes my boy, it's me." The man's eyes crinkle with joy as he walks towards the bed, "Look at you. My son. Oh how you've grown."

Eight years of mourning all rush and overcome Al, and before he realises it, he's scrambling out of bed, tripping over his feet tangled in the sheets, to run and embrace his father.

"Oof!"

The old man laughs as his son buries his head in his shoulder.

Alfred doesn't even notice he's crying, all he can think is how much he's missed that laugh.

"My boy," his father whispers as he holds him, running a familiar hand through his hair, "I have missed you." He sighs, loosening his hold, "But, I'm afraid our time is short."

"What?" Blue eyes meet as son looks up at father.

"The spell which let's me come here is strong, but it will not hold forever."

"Spell? What spell?"

"The one I weaved into my journals. Matthew was always such a smart boy, I knew he'd one day uncover their secrets, that's why I left them to him."

"Huh?"

"Ah, right. I'm guessing you don't know then. All of my journals, into the pages of them I embedded parts of several different spells, split across all of them. In the event of my death, I entrusted these journals to your brother, for I knew he'd figure it out. And this one," he says, turning to pick up the forgotten book, "I left instructions to be shown to you."

He holds the book out to Alfred, and the knight can see the words, glowing a light blue, shift and change, creating an entirely new text.

"It would take far longer than we have now to explain everything to you, so I will make this quick." He takes a deep breath, placing his hand on his sons shoulder, "The one known as King Momarîs is not who he seems, he's one of the Noceum Order."

"Noceum Order? Where have I heard that name before?"

' _ _The half-faced man.__ ' Arthur answers, having been watching the pair, _'_ _ _That book of his, you told me about it, remember?__ ' He huffs.

Al's father blinks at that.

"Book? You mean one of the codexes still exists?"

"Yea- Wait! How can you understand Arthur?!" Al gasps, only now just realising his father can talk with the wolf.

Standing straighter, the man grins cheekily down at him, "Come now Al, who do you think you got your gift from? Ah, but we're getting off topic. The King, Alfred, you must not trust him. I was wrong, we all were. We thought the Order wanted us dead, but it's worse, so much worse."

"What is?"

"The Order, they..." his father shakes his head, swallowing back the memories of what he's seen, "They were experimenting, on __us.__ They hunted us, took us prisoner, held the lives of the ones we loved as __ransom__."

"Why?"

"They want our powers Al, __your__ powers, young Gilbert's powers, everyone's."

"But, I thought the Order didn't exist anymore?"

"Publicly, no. They were destroyed four hundred years ago, however, followers still remained, and with them, their ambitions, the Order's one true goal."

"Goal?"

He nods, looking at Alfred with such seriousness that it's frightening, "To control all magics, and in doing so, create a God."

Blue eyes widen, staring up in shock, "What? How can that be? I thought that was just a saying, a myth?"

"No, it's very much __rea-__ " His father starts to say, but is cut off by his body starting to glow, slowly becoming transparent, "Aah, seems we're out of time."

"What? No!" Al cries, desperately grabbing at his father, "You can't go yet! There's still so much I want to say, so much I want to ask you!"

Despite the desperation of his son, the man remains calm, smiling warmly down at him, "I know son. But my time has already ended, and now, even this, the last of my power is fading too. But know this, I am __proud__ of you, my boy. You and Matthew both. You boys were the light of my life after your mother's passing, and I could not ask for better sons." He smiles, pressing the book in his hand into Alfred's as he continues to fade, now little more than a shadow, "I am sorry I could not teach you as I was taught, but in this book you'll find all you need to know."

Alfred knows he's crying as he holds the book close to his chest, watching as his father fades, but he doesn't care.

His father turns to look at Arthur, "Fierce One, I beg of you, please, look after my son."

Arthur bows his head low in respect, as he promises, ' _ _With my life.__ '

"Good." The blonde man whispers, blue eyes shimmering as he looks to his son for the last time, fading into nothing, he adds, "Live free, my son. I love you."

As the room grows silent, Alfred crumples, falling to his knees and crying into the book in his arms. He doesn't remember when he fell asleep, only waking with the suns rays landing on his face, curled up in Arthur's paws.

* * *

"Mattie!" Alfred calls out to his brother, finding him in the dining hall from yesterday.

It's early morning, but already it's becoming unbearably hot outside, so he's glad to be indoor as much as possible here.

"Hey Al, sleep well?" His twin greets as he sits, but immediately regrets asking as soon as he sees the sad look cross his brothers face.

"...I saw dad..."

"So the spell still worked?"

"Yeah..." There's an awkward moment of silence between them, something that never used to happen.

But Alfred is determined to change that.

He's decided, after reading and hearing from his father, he's going to find his __own__ answers, and choose his __own__ path. But even if he can't agree with his brother's plan, he doesn't want that to mean losing Mattie.

He's going to fix this broken relationship between them, and get back how things used to be.

He smiles bright, pulling the book out to show his brother, "Yeah, we didn't really have much time to talk, but he told me about the Order, about what they did and about the King being apart of it all. The rest, he said is in this book."

"Is, is that the journal?"

"Yup! Wanna read it with me?"

For the first time since reuniting, his twin gives him a genuinely happy smile.

"Sure."

* * *

 _ _Alfred, had things been different, I would have taught you all about your power myself. But this book will have to suffice.__

 _ _Even as we speak, I'm changing the words within to suit with what you have already learned and with you still need to know.__

 _ _First, your power. The__ Domino bestia, __is a bloodline Magia, meaning it is only possible to be 'gained' by it being passed down from parent to child. Only one child at a time can be born with the potential to inherit__ _ _the gift, so, in the case of twins like you boys, only one of you could ever receive it.__

 _ _For those with bloodline Magia, we have what is referred to as Tells, physical attributes that only those with the gift have. Some Tells are singular, others are a combination. For you my son, it is your eyes and your scent. Blue eyes like the open sky and the smell of the wild, that is how I knew you were the one to inherit my gift.__

 _ _Second, your Bonding. The Wolf. Bonding is a powerful thing, and it will last all your life, so long as you both shall live.__

 _ _You have done quite well my boy,__ Magia bestia __are notoriously difficult to Bond with, but if successful, are some of the strongest our kind can make. I wish I could have been there to see it, but, as is the nature of all bloodline Magia, that could never be.__

 _ _For you see my son, to inherit the gift, the previous owner must die. This, is what makes our magic so rare.__

 _ _But that is simply how things must be.__

 _ _Now my son, this is important.__

 _ _Your skills in magic are tied to the beast you have Bonded with. The power flows between the two of you through your Mark of Binding. Your power may seem small to begin with, but by training, both you and your wolf will grow even stronger. As__ Domino bestia __we have the unique ability to amplify and magnify our power by a system of mutual transference. Simply put, imagine your magic as a parcel, by passing that parcel to your wolf it gains more wrapping, growing in size. By repeatedly passing the magic back and forth between you, it will grow larger and more powerful.__

 _ _But be careful, if done incorrectly or too__ _ _much at once, both of you will lose__ _ _control, and the magic will erupt. But if done right, it can temporarily grant you more power than your natural capacity.__

 _ _Now, for specifics.__

 _ _Since it is a wolf you have Bonded with, you will soon start to notice certain... changes in yourself. Sight, hearing, smell and physical strength will begin to alter, becoming more like your Beasts. These will come with time as your Bond grows, but do not fear them, the are a natural part of your gift, embrace it.__

 _ _For now, my boy, you should work on your Communication and Command Skills.__

 _ _Your wolf seemed confused when I spoke with him, so I'm going to assume you haven't figured it out yet.__

 _ _You possess the ability to speak with all Beasts, but you will find it easiest to do so with those you are naturally inclined too, such as your wolf. And not just with your voice, but with your mind too. Think with your Will, and you will be able to commune with your beast more closely.__

 _ _Secondly, your voice holds power, with it, you can Command any beast, but the one Bonded to you will have no choice but to obey when you speak with your Will.__

 _ _I advise you work on this son, as a beast with out control over it risks Wilding. If that happens, you will lose all control over your wolf, and it's mind will be lost to it's instincts.__

 _ _But do not mistake me my boy, this need not be enslavement of the Beast, but a__ willing __choice to live and work as__ one. __Given time, your wolf will start to notice changes within himself too.__

 _ _Once you have this down, then work on your magic.__

 _ _You'll know when you've mastered it.__

 _ _Live free my boy.__

 _ _I and your mother shall continue to watch over you from the Wold Beyond.__

 _ _We will always love you my son, never forget that.__

* * *

"...This...is a lot to take in..." Al mumbles as they finish reading.

"Yeah, it was a lot for me too, back when I first decoded one of dad's journals." Matt agrees, "Though, I guess this is a little different for you eh?"

"These other journals... what do... what else do they say?"

"Well, their records mostly, of what Dad and the others like him found out about the Order, how far it goes, and... what they've done..." Mattie mumbles the last bit, looking away.

They fall silent again, before Alfred finally decides to ask what he's been avoiding all this time.

"What did they do Mattie? What did the King __do__ to make Gil hate him so much? His brother... how..." He trails off, unable to finish.

His twin sighs, pointing to the book, "I don't know, it happened after Dad... and Gil refuses to talk about it. All I know is the King is responsible for his brother's death."

"And your helping him because...of Dad?"

His twin nods, blonde hair bobbing about his face with the movement, "Yes. It's what Dad died for, to protect us, to protect __you,__ from the Order." His brother looks away, mumbling so quietly Al has to strain his ears to hear him, "...and I want to protect you...your all the family I've got left..."

"Alright..." Al pauses, thinking, before continuing, "Just one more thing. Why didn't Gil ever tell me he knew Dad?"

"To protect you."

"Huh?"

"Think about it Al. If the King ever found out you knew anything about all this, he might have gone after you. As far as we can tell, the Order doesn't know about the Tells of bloodline Magia, so keeping you in the dark was the safest thing to do."

Alfred shakes his head wildly, not liking this one bit.

No.

The Noceum Order, the King, his father, Gil, Mattie, all of it.

His whole life, he wanted nothing more that to become a knight to __protect__ people, but all this time, __he's__ been the one being protected.

Well no more.

It's time he took his life back into his __own__ hands.

And if taking on the King is what it takes to lift the burden of protecting him from his brother, or anyone else, so be it.

"That's it!" He shouts, standing and slamming his hands down on the table, startling both Mattie and Arthur sitting behind him.

"Al?"

"Take me to Elizabeta."

* * *

 ** **Authors notes:**** Ladies and gentlemen we have now completed the tour of Exposition Central, please exit the carts in an orderly fashion, thank you.

But yes, the Noceum Order, that group I briefly mentioned way back in chapter 10? Yeah, they're important... Three cheers for dead Father's coming back to give an info dump.

But Alfred's need to protect others may land him in more trouble than he realises...

And to those of you who have made it this far, congratulations! I think I've kept you from the action for too long, it's about time we got back to killing monsters, what do you say?

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	25. Knight of Truth

Alfred huffs as he wipes sweat from his brow, feeling the weight of his sword at his side as he follows his twin across the sand to the weird pyramid from before.

He's got a lot to think about.

Not too long ago, he didn't think he was anything special, just another knight in training.

Now.

Now...

This power of his, his __true__ inheritance from his father, his birthright.

And here he'd been bummed that all his Dad had left him was his sword.

But now, he knows one thing for sure. He has to own this power.

Master it.

The journal says he should start with mastering his Communication and Command skills. Both would certainly be useful, especially this Command skill, since Arthur is often so aggressive with new people, it would really help if he could have a way to stop him before he attacked someone. But how?

He looks over at Arthur as they walk.

The wolf is once again panting heavily from the heat, mouth open and tongue hanging out. Like this, he really does look like a big dog.

Still, Alfred wonders about that warning, Wilding. He's not sure, but he thinks that whatever happened to Arthur back at the Capital has something to do with that. The look in his eyes... The Arthur he knows was nowhere to be seen...

But the book also said he can talk to Arthur with his mind, like he does with him.

And at the Capital, he __did__ use his mind to call out to him, to bring him back. So, maybe he can do it again?

He just has to remember how...

Back then, he was so full of adrenaline and pain and fear, it just sort of... happened... And he hasn't really had a chance to try again since.

What did the book say again? Speak with his Will?

Right, Will.

So how does he do that?

Think, think...

Suddenly, he remembers Arthur's teachings about using magic, 'Do not think __how,__ only concentrate on __what__ you want it to do.'

Instinctual magic, that's what Arthur calls it...

Maybe he doesn't have to think about this at all. He just has to __do.__ It can't hurt to try right?

'Hey Artie?'

No, that wasn't right.

He frowns, trying to put more weight behind his words, 'H- **__**Hey, Ar**__** \- Art- **__**Artie?**__** ' He struggles, trying to get it right, but eventually manages to sound out his question.

Surprised by the voice, Arthur's ears prick and he turns to look at Alfred.

' _ _Al? How are you...__ '

' ** _ _ **Ha! It w**__** \- works!'

' _ _It what?__ ' Arthur asks, tilting his head in confusion as Alfred suddenly cuts off.

'No, no, hang on. How was **__**it? Okay, I've got it! Yes! Artie I can talk with my mind!**__** '

Al grins happily up at the wolf while Arthur looks back perplexed.

' _ _Yes, but,__ how _ _..?__ '

' ** _ _ **I just can. It's part of my gift.**__** ' Al laughs —making Matt turn and give his twin a confuse look, asking why he suddenly started laughing out of the blue— pleased that he can at least do this with out months of training.

Maybe mastering this gift of his won't be so hard after all.

Arthur, however seems less pleased by this, as he whines, ' _ _Oh great. Now I'll never be free of your endless prattle.__ '

"Hey!" Al cries, making Matthew even more confused as he leads them inside.

They follow the same route as before, up to the room which Al now knows is Elizabeta's command centre.

At the door, Matt knocks twice, then pushes it open.

"Matthew?" Liz asks, looking up curiously from the table with maps as they walk in.

Al is surprised to see Gil is there too. From the looks of things, they seem to be in the middle of forming some sort of battle strategy, going by the markers on the maps.

"Sorry for the interruption, but Al wanted to see you." He apologises, stepping aside to let his brother and wolf into the room.

Upon seeing Gilbert, Arthur drops his ears and gives a warning growl, but stops when Al pats his side, ' ** _ _ **Leave him be Art, now's not the time. We can kick his teeth in later.**__** '

"Well? What is it? We're quite busy here." Liz snaps impatiently, clearly not in a good mood.

"I've had a lot to think about," Al starts, "I still do. But... I've come to a decision." He announces, walking up to the woman and drawing his sword.

"Kid..." Gil warns slowly, moving to round the table.

"I'm __done__ with being lied to. I'm a knight, sworn to live and die by the sword. Sworn to __protect.__ No one should feel the need to protect me but __me.__ My old allegiance is a lie, but a knight is nothing with out a cause to fight for." He states firmly, looking Elizabeta in the eye, before kneeling, bowing his head, "You may not be a Queen, but you have a noble cause, a __just__ cause worth fighting for. So I pledge my sword to you, Elizabeta, Demoness of the Four Sands." He holds out his sword to her, "I will fight by your side, with all my strength, to kill King Momarîs and bring down the Order of Noceum, this I swear."

...

Silence follows his declaration, but this time he expects the laugh that comes from the woman. Deep and hearty, she grins wildly as she snatches up Alfred's blade.

"My, you really like to do things properly, don't you? Very well then," she twist the sword with her wrist, "Then let's do this right. As Mistress of Daská, I Now knight you, Alfred Feral Jones the third, Knight of Truth." She's beaming as she taps him on the shoulders with the side of his blade, "Now arise, my noble knight."

Standing, Liz gives him a slight nod as she hands him back his sword, a moment of reverence filling the room.

The moment is ruined, however, by slow clapping from the doorway.

"Bravo."

They all turn to look, seeing Sadık leaning against the door, continuing to clap condescendingly as he smirks lazily at the group.

"Such a __performance__ ," he laughs, pushing off the door and stepping into the room, "So this is it then? The gangs all here huh? The ones to change the land. Ha!" His laugh is sharp like a knife edge as he looks the group over, "Your all what he's so afraid off? What? A halfbreed, a blinded Seer, a bookworm, an idiot with a sword and a pack-less wolf?" He sneers, "What a joke."

"Sadık," Liz sneers right back, "How __kind__ of you to join us."

"What the __hell__ Sadık, we had a __deal!__ " Gilbert shouts, stepping closer to the masked man.

' _ _Al what's going on?__ ' Arthur asks hurriedly, defensively standing at Al's side.

' ** _ _ **I don't know.**__** ** _ _ **I thought Sadık**__** ** _ _ **was my friend, but they don't seem pleased with him.**__** '

"Hardly." The man drawls, smirking again, "Though, it was fun playing with all of you. It's a shame, to destroy something as beautiful as you, devil girl, but," he shrugs, smirk turning dangerous, "Orders must."

In the blink of an eye, he's charging at Elizabeta, but she doesn't even flinch.

"Carriedo!" She shouts.

Hand reaching out to her face, Sadık is halted mere inches away by a sudden barrier of weaving fire surrounding him.

"You called Mistress?" Antonio asks, suddenly appearing in the doorway as if he'd been there the whole time, a frown set deep in his usually cheery face, battle axe resting on his shoulder.

"Ah," Sadık sighs, lowering his hand but still smirking, "Fire netting? I see you've found yourselves a powerful __pawn__." He drawls, looking back at Antonio.

Laughing again, his smirk turns sharp, "But you'll have to do better than that to catch __me__."

Seemingly without doing anything, the fire surrounding him is blasted outwards, and in an instant he's behind Antonio, holding a dagger to his neck.

"Sorry, but you'd have to train for another __decade__ before you'd even have a __chance__ at besting me!" He shouts, mercilessly dragging the blade across the brunettes neck, slicing it open before anyone can react.

Sadık laughs as Antonio's body drops with a heavy __thump,__ blood pooling around his motionless form.

His cackling stops just as suddenly as it started, looking dangerously at the stunned group.

Finally snapping out of it, Al reaches for his sword, but is too slow.

Just as quickly, the masked man gets behind him, cutting him down just the same. As he lies bleeding out, he blearily sees both Arthur and Gil make to attack, but even them, the two strongest people he knows, are no match.

He's then forced to watch as his brother, with no fighting experience is slain before his eyes.

"Haaa..." Sadık breathes, hands soaked in their blood as he turns on the only one remaining, Elizabeta, "Now, where __was__ I?"

"Does this __please__ you?" She asks coldly, not looking at the bodies of her fallen comrades, "To kill so senselessly? To take the lives of my men, to snuff them out like they were __nothing?__ "

"Of course!" He cackles in delight, showing his oddly sharp teeth as he grins madly, "I live for the kill, it's what I was __made__ for. You should understand devil girl, you and I are the same!"

From his position, Alfred can't see his face as Sadık removes his mask, revealing his true self to Liz.

"Your right, I __do__ understand." She agrees, much to Al's shock, "We are the same, so I know the urge well."

"Then why fight it! Come on girl, __join us!__ " He cries madly, grabbing her shoulders, "Or die!"

"And who, exactly is __us?__ " She asks, eyes narrowing.

"Who else? The Order!"

"As I thought." She scrawls, shoving his hands off her, "No."

"AaaAaH! Idiot!" Sadık snaps, waves of heat rolling off him.

"Hardly. Now come on. I choose death, so get it over with."

"Rrrggh! Fine!" He raises his hand to her face, but stops when she asks one last question.

"But first, tell me. Who __do__ you work for, so that I may curse their name for all eternity in the World Beyond."

The insane grin he gives is enough to even send shivers down Elizabeta's spine.

"He who sees all and knows all. The true God of this world, Lord Emperor of Qonia!"

With that crazed decree, he grabs her face and raises his skin temperature so high even Alfred feels like he's burning, his nose stinging with the smell of chard flesh.

"Hahah! AhAhaAHahA ** **AHAHAHA!**** " His manic laughter is the last thing Al hears as he watches Liz drop and he blacks out.

...

...

...

...

Alfred blinks, looking around.

He's alive, they all are.

He's still standing in the exact same spot as before...

And Sadık is laughing like a manic in the cage of fire...

"Haaa, Alright Gil, that's enough. We won't get anything more out of him."

Still dazed and confused, it takes a moment for Alfred to notice the glow of Gilbert's eyes as Sadık suddenly drops to the ground in the cage, falling silently.

"Wha-what... just happened?"

Arthur huffs, glaring at Gilbert, ' _ _Illusionary magic.__ '

"Illusions?"

"Sorry for not filling you in kid, but we didn't know if you were going to agree of not."

"You just has some bad timing." Matt adds, smiling at him.

"I'm confused..."

"We knew he'd be coming to kill me, so we planned a trap for him." Liz sighs, glaring down at the still masked man, "We had to get as much information as we could out of him, without him suspecting anything and giving us false info."

"We would have told you, but," Antonio shrugs, "On the plus side, your reaction was very convincing. It's nice to know that you'd try to avenge me, even if it was a stupid idea." He grins cheerily.

"Uh..."

"Welcome to the war kid." Gil grins, coming over to pat him on the shoulder, "And trust me, this is the __least__ fucked up shit you'll see."

Liz grins too, as Antonio alters the fire to bind to Sadık's body and she picks him up, effortlessly slinging the masked man over her shoulder, "Congratulations, you just passed your induction."

...

' ** _ _ **Arthur?**__** '

' _ _Yes?__ '

' ** _ _ **...What the**__** ** **hell**** ** _ _ **have I just gotten us into?**__** '

* * *

 ** **Authors notes:**** Mwhahaha... oh Alfred you have __no__ idea...

The young knight's search of the truth of everything begins, but is he prepared for what answers he may yet find?

But yes, Gilbert may not have his gift anymore, but make no mistake, he is still __plenty__ powerful, this is just a __taste__ of what he can do.

Ah Sadık, why are you so fun to write? Okay, I'm taking guesses, who do you think is the leader he's talking about? It's one of our lovable nations, because someone has to play the villain, but who?

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	26. Lay of the land

Alfred has come to the conclusion that these people are clearly insane.

He had always thought that Gilbert's training and battle plans were a little... unorthodox. But this is on a whole different level. He thought he was dead! He thought they all were. It had felt so __real__ too, just thinking about it makes him shiver.

Their plan —to let the enemy walk right into the __heart__ of their command, and trick him in to telling them everything he knows— hinged __soli__ on Gil and Toni __perfectly__ syncing their magic to both ensnare and misguide Sadık. If they were off by even the __slightest__ bit, if Gil couldn't make a __flawless__ illusion of Toni's fire magic, if Sadık even had the __slightest__ suspicion of something being off, they would have been screwed.

"Still with us kid?"

The question brings Alfred back to the present in time to see Elizabeta one handedly toss Sadık at a pair of guards who both sag under the man's weight.

"Throw this sack of shit in the dungeons. And get a Sealing on him, we can't have him escaping."

Still feeling out of sorts, Al watches as the pair nod and drag away the man he had sort of come to think of as a friend, but just tried to kill him, Antonio cheerily waving and closing the door behind them.

It's almost disconcerting how happy Elizabeta is as she dusts her hands of on her tunic.

"Now that that's sorted, back to business."

"Right." Gil also grins and turns back to the table, as if all of what just happened was completely normal.

He looks to his twin, in the hopes to find some sort of shock to validate that his reaction is the __normal, sane__ one, but he too, has turned away from the door and moved to join Gilbert's side.

When he doesn't move from the spot he's been rooted in for several minutes now, Gil looks up and gives him an expectant look.

"Well?"

' _ _Al? Mind telling me what's going on?__ '

It takes feeling Arthur's warm breath at his side to finally snap him into moving.

' ** _ _ **I think I'm about to find out.**__** '

Wandering over, he stands at the tables end, Liz on one side, Mattie and Gil on the other and Arthur following over to sit behind him.

Once he's finally joined their mini circle Liz gives him a serious look, "From this moment on, you are a member of the War Council of Daská. Everything you see, hear, and do in here is of the upmost secrecy. Understood?"

Al nods, "And don't forget about Arthur." He grins, motioning to the wolf looking over his shoulder.

"Him too." She agrees.

With one sweeping motion, she clears the table of all the set markers and maps, scattering them to the floor. In their place, she rolls out a new one depicting the Known Territories, while Matt sets a wooden box down beside it. From it, Liz pulls out small stone sculptures, "King Momarîs, the power hungry Snake," as she says this, she places a sculpture of a fat coiled snake with a lopsided crown over the Capital of Talmeré. "Saris, the man Pig," she sneers as she slams a pig shaped sculpture with one eye missing down on the south of Talmeré, just above the boarder with Kerineln. "The Frost siblings," next she adds a sculpture of three people back to back with blank faces over the northern half of the Mighty Wilderness. "The Blood Viper," another snake, but this one looks much more threatening, standing ready to strike with large fangs painted red like blood, she sits it over an area just west of Daská, "Sadık the Informant," she adds a sculpture of a very detail version of the man's mask over the southern territory of Daská, knocking it to lie on it's side, "and finally Him. The master of the Noceum Order." The last sculpture she pulls out is of a cracked crown and she sets it over the huge territory of the Empire of Qonia to the west.

"These are our enemies, the leaders of the Noceum Order. There is no telling how many followers they have, but our mission is clear. We must eradicate them. Their sick __depravity__ must **__**end.**__** For the lives they've taken, for their inhumane __experiments__ , for all the pain they've caused, not just us, but countless others." She looks to each of them, silently swearing this vow between them, and Alfred has no intention of backing out now.

Once satisfied, she turns back to the map.

"We've managed to cripple their communications by taking out Sadık, __and__ gain some valuable information in the process."

Gilbert nods, frowning down at the map, "Now we know not just __who__ their leader is, but where he's been hiding all this time."

"He's the ruler of Qonia," Matthew joins in, staring contemplatively down at the cracked crown, "This is a lot more problematic than we thought."

"True," Red eye's shift about the map, "but we should focus on what we can do right now." One pale hand reaches across the table to flick the smaller snake, "we still need to unite the southern territories. And we can't do __that__ until we get rid of __this__ ," he flicks the sculpture again, making it wobble, _"_ asshole."

"Yes that's all well and true," Liz sighs, wings twitching slightly as she shifts her weight, "but we're off plan remember? Sadık wasn't meant to betray us, Alfred wasn't meant to be here yet. Who knows what other changes may have occurred."

Despite all this, Gil grins, "Your a strong fighter Liz, and a good leader, but your still inexperienced in battle." She frowns at the albino but he continues on, "Battles change, the fight is fluid. Even with all the foresight in the world, no one can perfectly predict every little outcome of every little event. You have to learn to act on your feet, be responsive to change, hell, expect it! So we can't use the original plan? So what? We'll just make a new one. Again and again if we have too, until we have victory."

Elizabeta leans back, raising an eyebrow at the red eyed man, "So you have a plan then?"

Gilbert's grin widens, "Always."

From the belt of his tunic, Gil pulls a small leather bag off and tosses it onto the table.

Curious, Liz reaches for it, emptying the contents out onto the table.

"HOLY HELL!" Alfred cries upon seeing the fist size crystal tumble out, "That's, that's!" He points, hand shaking in shock.

Ignoring the blonde knight, Liz leans closer to eye the gem better, "Is this?"

"Yup! Behold the glory of the Shard of Talmeré." Gil announces smugly.

"How?" Both Liz and Al ask at the same time, one sounding curiously, the other shocked.

"How else?" Gilbert proudly smacks Matt on the back, "Your forgetting we have one hell of a tactician on our side."

"Mattie?!"

Despite the praise, Matt shrugs the albino's hand off, "You shouldn't be so happy about it, people died remember?"

Despite the protest, Gilbert still remains grinning as he explains, "We had to get the kid out safely without the Bastard finding out about him. But... We'd surely end up blowing our cover doing so, which means we'd have to make the most of what we could do before then. Lucky for us, the kid came back just in time for the Solstice festival, with just so happens to be the only time __this__ is brought up out of the vaults. Some quick prep later, and we left the way for the kid to break out of jail, have him disguised as an actor, and have him and wolfy here cause a distraction while we steal the Shard. __And__ as a bonus," he nudges Matt, making the other sigh, but he reaches into the bag he's been carrying and places an old looking book on the table, "we got __this__ too."

"I'll admit, I'm impressed." Liz smiles, reaching to pick up the Shard.

"Whoa! Be Careful! Don't touch it with your bare hands." Gil quickly warns, grabbing her wrist to stop her.

She frowns, but switches to use the bag to pick it up with and examine it.

"Gil... __why__ do you have the Kingdom's most powerful relic?"

"Eh? I told you, we stole it."

"Yeah, but... **__**why**__** _ _?__ " Al still can't believe they took it.

The Shard is the greatest defence Talmeré has against the threat of attack, without it, they're vulnerable.

His eyes widen, now realising this. That's why they must have took it, they plan to attack the kingdom in order to kill the King.

There's a moment of silence between them as the three look at each other, before it seems Matthew is the one chosen to explain.

"We took it for you Al."

...He was __not__ expecting that answer.

"Wha?"

"The Shard is an amplifier," his twin begins to explain, fishing around in his bag to pull out another book, by the looks of it, it's another one of their fathers journals, "under normal circumstances that is. But according to Dad, it's true power can only be wielded by someone who shares the same magical properties as it. Before we were born, Dad was forced to take part in one of the King's experiments. He, along with a bunch of others were ordered to touch it. He says here that anyone who's magic didn't sync with it, had their power forcefully magnified instantly into erupting. Some...didn't survive."

"And Dad?"

"He didn't sync with it and his magic erupted. But, from the brief moment of contact, he could tell that it was some kind of Beast magic in it. He theorised that if he was still Bonded at the time, he might have been able to sync with the Shard."

As his twin finishes reading the three turn to look at Al, Liz holding out the stone to him.

"Wait... you want __me__ to __touch__ that thing?! You just said some people didn't survive! What if I die?!"

Hearing the blondes fearful cry of a threat to his life, Arthur drops his ears in threat and growls.

Gil glares back at the wolf before flicking his gaze over to the fretting knight.

"Your not gonna die, don't be such a baby. The people who died were in shit shape, but your good. Peak physical condition, you'll be fine."

"At most you'll pass out for a few days." Liz adds, gesturing the stone more.

"No way!" Al cries, waving his hands in front of himself as he steps back.

"Oh, for Gods sake." Gil huffs, rolling his eyes as he quickly moves his hand across the table and smacks Elizabeta's up, causing the crystal to fly out of her hand and into the air towards Alfred.

Knowing the value of the Shard, and not wanting to risk it breaking, Al automatically reaches to catch it, only realising as second too late what that meant.

Left hand reaching, the gem lands in the palm of his hand, and Al snaps his eyes shut in fear.

...

After a few moments he peeks an eye open to look.

The room remains the same, the others all looking confused down at the gem.

Gil is the first to voice everyone's thoughts on the matter with a poignant, "Huh."

"Nothing happened." Liz huffs, sounding unimpressed.

"Al, do you... feel anything from it?"

"Nope," the blonde knight sighs in relief, turning the crystal over in his hands to examine it, "just feels like a regular old rock to me. What do you think Artie?"

Turning, Al holds the Shard up to the wolf. Leaning down, Arthur gives it a sniff, eyeing it suspiciously.

' _ _What is it? I can sense a strong power coming from that rock, but it feels...__ ' He trails off.

"What?"

' _ _I don't know. Something about it feels unnervingly familiar. I don't trust it.__ '

"Al?"

"Nothin, Sorry." He shrugs, turning back to the group.

Not one to be brought down by something not working out like he planned, Gilbert slams his hand down on the old book, effectively drawing everyone's attention back to him.

"Alright, so the Shards supposed secret power thingy is a bust, __buuut__ , we still have this." He pats his hand on the book, grinning, "This grimoire has some of the strongest and oldest spells in all of Talmeré written in it. Without this or the Shard the Bastard will be feeling vulnerable. We're far from beat here, we can still take him down."

"True," Liz sighs, "but the fact remains that we still don't have the man power to take on an assault against Talmeré. And that aside," she shakes her head, looking to Al, "our newest recruit here is far from being ready."

"I am ready!"

"Even if you were, we still can't make a move on King Momarîs yet." They all look to Matthew to explain himself, so he continues, "Just look. With Saris north of us and the Blood Viper to the west, we're boxed in against the eastern desert and the Unknown territories to the south." He explains, pointing out the strip of desert between them and the sea, and the large blank section of map south of them.

"With Sadık captured, and Momarîs suspicious of us, it would be unwise to make any hasty moves against him now."

"So what do you suggest?"

There's a calculating look in Matthew's eyes as he leans over the map that Alfred has never seen before, a strength to his twin that up until now, he's never been aware of.

"As it stands, Saris is unlikely to move from his position. From what we know of him, he's far to fearful to act on his own, preferring to stay in the shadows and let others do his dirty work. The Viper on the other hand," he pauses, staring at the statue for a moment before continuing, "he's far more dangerous. It's one thing for us to destabilise Momarîs, but another entirely to take out Sadık."

"You think he's going to act."

"Yes," Matt takes a breath, before raising his eyes to look at them all seriously, "they know you Liz, they know __us,__ they know we have Daská. They're going to attack us for this, and soon."

She nods, understanding the blondes train of thought, "And the Viper will be the one to do it."

"Heh," grinning Gil flicks the Vipers sculpture, "then let's make sure __we're__ the ones to strike first."

The three of them nod, already formulating plans in their minds.

"Then it's agreed," Elizabeta decrees, straightening, "we strike the Vipers nest first. Williams," she addresses Matt, becoming commanding, "I want a battle strategy, tactics, routes, diversions, all of it."

"Yes ma'am." He nods.

"Beilschmidt! I want Jones and the wolf trained and ready for battle. You have a week."

Alfred blinks, looking back and forth between the pair, "What?"

Frowning, Gil huffs, "Come on Liz, who do you think I am?" before his face slips into a sly smirk, "I'll do it in three."

"What?!" Alfred cries aghast at the idea.

If there's one thing he didn't miss in exile, it was the albino's rigorous training regimen. He can barely stand outside in this heat for more than five minutes without feeling like he's about to collapse from heatstroke, and Arthur's even worse.

The very __idea__ of any kind of training in this climate is terrifying.

"Good, then meeting dismissed."

"Come on then kid, we've got work to do."

The next three days are going to be a living hell, he just knows it.

* * *

 ** **Authors notes:**** And now we're back to moving forward with the plot.

Will Alfred survive? Will Arthur?

But yes, I think I made it pretty obvious who one of the enemies is, but they'll show up some time later, when exactly, is anyone's guess.

Also, if anyone's interested, I've posted a rough version of the map mentioned here on my tumblr, so check that out if you'd like.

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	27. ADWAP

"ON YOUR FEET JONES!"

Alfred groans at the booming voice of his tormentor as he lies face down in the scorching sand. If he had the strength or the fluid he'd be crying, but he's so exhausted and dehydrated, he doesn't think he has a drop of water left in him for even that.

Beside him, Arthur pants heavily as he struggles to stand up again. The white hot sun is relentless in beating down on them, reflecting off of the wolf's sand clogged fur and making it shimmer.

' _ _Al...__ ' Even the wolf's mental voice sounds breathless.

The blonde barely has the strength to even muster up a groan in response, yet somehow, he's able to roll to the side and jump to his feet as he feels the sand shift beneath them. His movements are sluggish, they both are, but still, they just about dodge the Sandworm that breaks through the dune the pair had been lying on.

It's a strain to even see straight, his head is pounding, and his light weight armour of an Acreta skin breastplate feels heavier than his old full body lot ever did. Even the bronze reinforced leather bracers on his forearms feel like dead weights, and his sword feels impossibly heavy as the metal threatens to burn through the leather and twine hilt.

"COME ON JONES!"

Still, that's all the encouragement he needs.

He pushes through it all to plant his feet, and when the Worm loops back down, he roars back at it as he swings his blade up —gripping it tight and using it's power to speed up the swing— and cuts the beasts head clean off.

But that's about all the strength he can muster as he doubles over from the exertion, using the sword to support his weight as the Worm's twenty foot long body falls limp into the sand —making a fare sized indent in it— the head rolling away to the bottom of the dune. It's a testament to Arthur's exhaustion when he doesn't even __try__ to eat it, only collapsing back down in the sand.

Panting and just about ready to pass out, Al forces himself to look up to the top of the dune.

"T...that," he swallows, mouth as dry as the desert around them, "...makes...twenty...eight..."

"Good," Gilbert, completely unfazed by the heat, grins as he looks down on the pair, "only two more to go."

And so the torture continues.

* * *

Gilbert Beilschmidt's 'Advanced Desert Warfare and Acclimatisation Program', or ADWAP as he calls it, is nothing short of a nightmare on steroids to Alfred. Three full days of the most intensive, rigorous, and down right __deadly__ training he's ever had the misfortune of experiencing, and Alfred is left marvelling at the fact their not dead by the end of it.

And when he says full, he means __full,__ even the nights were of no rest to him. He's not slept in three days and now feels like a lifeless puppet who's strings have long since been cut.

Between jogging with a sack full of rocks on his back for four miles up and down the dunes, fighting creatures nonstop and little to no food or water was bad enough on it's own. But that's not including all the battle tactics Gil drilled him on —only giving him water when he got them right or making him run if he got just __one__ thing wrong, before restarting the whole lesson again— and dealing with the drastic changes in temperature —freezing nights and blistering days— and to top it all off, Gil himself would randomly attack him out of nowhere at any given point in the day or night, he honestly thinks he might have died out there if it wasn't for Arthur.

Even though the wolf was having a hard enough time as it is with his thick coat of fur, he still stuck by Al every step of the way. He ran with him, he memorised what Al could not, he fought by him. In the day he used his magic to try to cool them, despite how difficult it clearly was to do in such heat, and during the nights he helped keep him warm with his body heat. More times than he can count the wolf warned him of an incoming attack, and when he was so drained he couldn't move in time, Arthur was there, pulling him to safety, even if it meant he risked getting hurt himself.

One time when he was too slow in moving, Arthur grabbed him by the back of his tunic and pulled him back. But as a result of their position, they both ended up tumbling backwards down one of the larger dunes, Al came out unscathed, but Arthur must have twisted his leg in the fall, resulting in a sprained ankle on which he was forced to limp about on. And oddly, Alfred was also left favouring his left hand as he felt the phantom pain of the wolf's injury, something Mattie had warned him about before they left.

But even injured Arthur refused to stop. Finally, when they were lying cold and tired next to each other in the middle of the night, Al asked him why.

* * *

 _ _Looking up at the stars, Al sighs, pondering a question he can't quite find an answer to.__

 _ _Giving up on thinking on it himself, he turns, rolling onto his side to face the wolf, '__ ** **Artie?**** '

 _ _With all the random attacks from both creatures and their asshole of an instructor, Al knows it's best to stay quiet, using just his mind to speak.__

 _'_ Yes Alfred?' __The wolf sighs back tiredly, shifting to look down at the young knight pressed against his stomach for warmth.__

' ** **Why are you doing this with me?**** ' __When the wolf frowns at him, he clarifies,__ ' ** **Why do all this training? I'm not forcing you, and really, Gil can't either. So then, why?**** '

 _ _Rather than answer, the wolf turns away, and Al starts to think he won't get one until he shivers from a cold blast of wind. Without looking at him, Arthur shifts, using his paws to pull the blonde closer and his body to block as much of the wind as he can.__

'You are my pack now.' __Alfred looks up at that, but Arthur continues to look away as he speaks,__ 'That means we stay together, no matter what.'

 _ _The pair fall silent, both considering the meaning behind the wolf's words, before Arthur huffs, continuing,__ 'You should understand, you have your own pack, isn't it the same?'

' ** **My own pack?**** '

'Those humans. Your brother, the female, the silver one, even the ash one. I may not understand them, but from what you've told me, you follow them, you work together, you fight and protect together.' __Finally Arthur looks at him,__ ' _ _They__ are __your__ pack, and __you__ are __mine__. You follow them, I follow you.'

* * *

Even though that explained a few things, it left Al with even more questions, but no time to ask them, as Gil chose that exact moment to attack them again.

As the days continued, one thing became increasingly clear, Arthur __really__ doesn't like Gilbert. And Al's __pretty__ sure the feeling is mutual. But, on the plus side, he thinks he might be getting closer to figuring out this whole Command Skill, at least twice he was able to stop Arthur from straight up attacking Gil out of spite, though whether that was him or just Arthur actually listening to him he doesn't know.

By the end of the third night, he's more relieved than words can say to collapse into his bed, falling asleep instantly even as the sun starts to rise outside.

* * *

Matthew sighs as he looks over the finalisation of the plans. It's risky, but at this point everything is.

It makes him nervous, not knowing all the factors. Not knowing is what gets you killed, what gets other people killed too. He realised that the hard way...

Still, he has to keep moving forward, they all do.

He'll be better this time, he'll __do__ better.

He blinks at the sound of the door opening, looking up to see Antonio coming into the small library.

"Ahh, still here are you?" He smiles warmly, as always, "I thought you already gave Mistress the final plans?"

"I did," he sighs heavily, slumping in his seat, "I'm just worried I've missed something important."

The brunette chuckles, dragging the only other stool over and plopping it down next to Matt, slinging an arm over his shoulders, "You worry to much. You should trust in yourself more, you know?"

Matthew just sighs again, fiddling with his quill.

For a while Toni is silent beside him, something unusual for the man, before he murmurs solemnly, "Is this about what happened back in Talmeré?" When he feels the blonde stiffen beside him he sighs, shaking his head, "You cannot keep blaming yourself for that."

"But so many people died. I don't even know __how__ many, but... all that... _ _blood__...and their was... _ _bits__ of...it was __everywhere...__ " he shudders at the memory of having to walk through the courtyard to fetch Al, seeing all that he had caused.

"It was not your fault. You did not know the wolf would go wild." Antonio grips his shoulder harder, making him look over, "You did not __know__. It wasn't __your fault__." There's a hard look in the brunette's green eyes as he stares forward, and Matt's not sure if he's still talking about him or not.

So he just stays quiet, letting himself be held in the small room, whether for his benefit or Antonio's he doesn't particularly care.

* * *

It's around midday when Alfred's room door is kicked open, slamming back into the stone wall and making the blonde jump.

Instincts thoroughly retuned by all of his intensive training, Al dives off the side of his bed, over Arthur, grabbing his sword from the table behind them and rolling to kneel facing the door, unsheathing and raising the blade, ready to strike all in one swift movement. Beside him Arthur too, was startled awake, jumping to his feet and crouching, ready to pounce on anything that dares to move.

"Kesesesese!"

Al sighs, dropping his sword with a heavy __clunk__ as he sees it's only Gil, leaning on his door frame and laughing his head off at them. Arthur on the other hand, makes his displeasure at being woken oh so rudely known, growling and jumping at the albino, and Alfred is too tired to try to stop him. He doesn't see what happens as the pair tumble out into the hall, only hearing Gil's obnoxious laugh and Arthur's colourful choice of words to describe the man.

* * *

"Mattiiiiie, feeeeeed meeeee!" Al whines petulantly, slumping over his brother in the dining hall.

"How can I with you lying on me like this?" His twin sighs, trying and failing to remove the human sand bag he calls a brother.

Once Gilbert had successfully evaded Arthur, Al had suddenly remembered how hungry he was, and so the pair had dragged themselves to the Meal Hall, and, having instantly spotted his brother innocently reading with a mug of something delicious smelling, the knight had thrown himself across the unsuspecting blonde.

"Maaattieeee, I'm dying hereeee!" Alfred continues his pathetic whining, hand reaching blindly up to the table for the mug, only for Matthew to lift it out of his reach.

Arthur, for his part, simply gives a low grumble of complaint as he lies behind the pair. Though Al is familiar with the sound, knowing it's just the wolf's way of demanding food without saying it, Matthew is not, and freezes in his teasing of Al, fearful of what the wolf might do.

Luckily for Matt, Antonio comes over to join their table then, trays of food in hand.

"Lunch is served! Or is it still breakfast for the knight?" He grins, setting down an assortment of meats, soups and bread before them.

"Fooood! May the Gods bless you, oh great one!" Al dramatically cries, bowing at Toni while simultaneously grabbing the first thing that comes to hand and shoving it in his face.

"Eat as much as you want kid, you've earned it." Gil grins, reappearing from who knows where to join them with even more food.

As he stuffs his face, Al is force to sit up from his brother's lap as Arthur roughly head-butts him.

' _ _Alfred...__ ' He growls, and it doesn't take a genius to know what the wolf wants.

The others can tell too, by the loud grumbling coming from the wolf's stomach.

"Oh, right, uhhh," he looks over the food, before grabbing for a roasted leg of some kind, "oooh, here, try this!"

"Hey!" But before he can give it over, Gil reaches across and slaps the meat out of his hand. "What do you think your doing?"

"Me!?" Al cries affronted, "Feeding Artie, what are __you__ doing? He's just as hungry as me you know!"

Unfazed, Gil sits back, "Not with that your not, this isn't wolf food." Al glares, opening his mouth, ready to start a fight, before the albino smirks, " _ _That,__ is wolf food." He grins, nodding to the kitchens.

Turning to look behind him, Al's eyes widen as he stares at the cart being wheeled towards their table by two of the cooks. On it, is the single largest piece of meat he's ever seen, deliciously browned from cooking and glistening in it's own juices, steam still rising up from it.

It's obvious to everyone who this is meant for, and Arthur wastes no time in getting stuck in. As a wolf, and thus not having any table manners, it's no wonder that Arthur makes a bit of a scene as he bites down and pulls the slab of meat down the the ground, causing a clatter as the cart is knocked over in his haste. The poor cooks jump back in fright, not having expected that, while everyone else is just left to stare.

"Kesese, eat up wolfy!" Gilbert shouts, returning to his own meal.

"Gil, what the heck is that __from?__ It's half the size of Arthur!"

"That? A Kokkelo, real big one too." The man shrugs, picking up one of the head sized bowls full of soup, "See this bowl? It's made from their eggshells. They're pretty common further out into the desert, and they're pretty useful for us. Their hide's tough, good for making shields and stuff, not as good as Acreta skin though, but the eggshells are useful, what with them being all scale plated like this, plus you get a lot of meat for your kill, tasty too."

Al stares, remembering what Gil had told him about these beasts.

"But they're __huge__ right? Like giant lizards the size of a house, and their hide is nearly impenetrable, how do you even __kill__ something that big?"

Gil just __grins,__ ripping a loaf of bread apart for effect, and suddenly Al doesn't want to know anymore.

He's distracted however, by Mattie throwing surreptitious glances over his shoulder at the wolf gorging himself just behind them. Having spent so much time with Arthur, Al forgets that it can be a bit unnerving watching him eat, __especially__ when he's hungry and their's meat around. Even so, he can't help grinning as Arthur shreds the slab with his teeth, effortlessly ripping it apart.

Sure, to anyone else it might seem a little... __aggressive,__ but Al finds it hard to see Arthur as anything __near__ threatening when he's drooling, covered in meat juices and singing the praises of how delicious the food is.

"Relax Mattie," he grins, slapping his twin on the back, "Artie won't hurt you, he's cool. Believe it or not, that's about the happiest I've seen him in weeks."

He's trying to be reassuring, but Matthew only seems more disturbed that __that__ is what Al calls happy.

' _ _This is soooo goooood!__ ' Arthur practically sings, cheeks puffing with food.

"Geez Artie," Al snickers, "Your _ _supposed__ to eat it, not make love to it." He teases, and receives a tail slap to the face as a result, knocking him out of his seat.

Across the table, Antonio smiles warmly, "Am I to take it that that means he likes my cooking?"

"Huh, you cooked it?" Al asks as he crawls back onto his cushion.

"Yup! Something that big wouldn't fit whole in the ovens, so I gave it a bit of magic treatment."

Alfred stares, wondering what magic he used to cook it.

"Anyway, eat up! This is our treat to you for officially joining us."

"Yeah!" Gilbert suddenly shouts, standing, "A toast, to Jones and Wolf!"

He raises his mug, which suspiciously smells of beer, and not just Matt and Toni, but everyone in the hall with a drink raises their cup.

"Hurrah, hurrah!" They all shout, banging the cups repeatedly to the table. "Hurrah, hurrah!"

Looking around at all the faces of men and women, of friends old and new, and of family, he grins the widest he has in a long time. Snatching up his own cup, he raises it high above his head.

"HURRAH!"

* * *

 ** **Authors notes:**** Kind of a filler chapter, but some important stuff does happen so, woo progression! And pieces of the puzzle that is Antonio are beginning to come to light.

 ** ***cue tension building music, engage**** ** _ _ **dramatic**__** ** **voice*****

But the fun may just end here, as next time! With an extra long chapter, the fight truly begins as our hero's take on the Blood Viper!

Also THANK YOU ALL FOR 100 REVIEWS! You have no idea how much this means to me!

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	28. The Viper's Nest

"Alright, listen up! Here's the plan, I'm only going to say this once so you lot better pay attention!" Elizabeta barks out as she stands atop the third tier of the building, looking down on the gathering of around fifty or so men and women. Behind her, her war council stands, tall and proud, if a bit of an odd lot.

The people below, Alfred has learned, are the heads of the clans of Daská. Each one of them willingly defers their power to Liz as the unifier of their land, and will follow her lead, no matter what.

Alfred looks out quite curiously at the sea of faces, wondering what exactly Liz did to gain all of their trust. If the business of the Order is only known to them, how did she get so many people to follow her? He'd asked Gil, but he said it was just cause she was a good leader, Matt didn't know and he doesn't really know Antonio well enough to feel like he could ask him.

What he __does__ know, is that they made a big fuss about him —or more specifically __Arthur—__ standing up here behind her for this speech, and now he can see why. Since he's been here, he's only seen a handful of these people, as most have come from all across the kingdom, but now gathered he can see the stares and pointing and whispering at the sight of the wolf.

Arthur, however, was lest than pleased by it. Al could tell even without the wolf voicing it, he could just __feel__ the unease, something he could understand. And when he whispered as much to Mattie beside him, his twin just smiled, "Don't worry, their just impressed." He reassured.

That certainly helped to inflate Al's ego __just__ a little bit, and when he passed the message on to Arthur, the wolf blinked, before standing straighter, clearly exuding pride.

Alfred is no stranger to war tactics, and by the end of it, he understood his part clearly. His and Arthur's presence is a morale booster, but they are also key to taking down this Blood Viper. Of course, he was already filled in before coming out here, which he's grateful for. 'Cause if he didn't know it was __Mattie__ who came up with this, he sure as hell wouldn't have agreed to it.

Come morning they move out, the clan heads will gather their men, and the fight will begin. He's not big on stealth, but now he understands Gil's mad training. The Viper, much to his name, has surrounded his territory with Acreta's; large, man eating, venomous snakes, roughly the same size as the relatively more harmless Sandworms he's spent the last three days killing.

His job is simple really, since Arthur's heightened senses can pick up on movement in the sand, they're tasked with going ahead and clearing the way of the snakes.

Easy.

* * *

"This is __not__ easy!" Al shouts, narrowly dodging the fangs of another Acreta as he rolls out of the way.

Nearly two weeks of marching to reach the edge of the Viper's territory, and as planned, he and Arthur are the first to go in.

All he has to do is just kill snakes, how hard can __that__ be?

When there's six of them trying to kill you at once? __Very__.

This is what he gets for thinking they had the easy job.

" _ _Al!__ "

At the wolf's warning he plants his right foot and twists, swing his sword up and back as he rotates, "Argh!" He cries as he forces the blade up into the neck of a striking snake, spinning fully to put his full force behind it and shove the sword up through it's skull.

Behind him, while his sword is currently imbedded in the snakes head, Arthur jumps another that makes to attack him, pinning it to the sand with his weight and ripping into its flesh at its eyes. The snake thrashes, tail wiping to strike the wolf.

' ** _ _ **Arthur!**__** '

They time it well, Arthur jumps back and releases the writhing beast, causing the tail to miss him, and Al pulls his sword free from his to drive it through the mangled eye of Arthur's, killing both within seconds. But even as the two fall still, Arthur warns him of more approaching, and sure enough, moments later three more burst out to surround them.

"Damn it! Just how many of these stupid things __are there?__ " He complains, using the body of one of the dead to vault over and slide under the next one that aims for him.

As it's head is lowered from the miss, Arthur uses that opportunity to pounce, pulling it down to the ground and ripping its neck open. Alfred doesn't stop either, running and jumping on top of the tail of another, using it to throw him at the farthest away one, driving his blade down on it's head.

He thinks their doing well, that is until he hears Arthur cry out and feels four points of pain explode in his back.

"Aaarggh!" He cries, almost doubling over, but fights through it to look back in time to see one of the Acreta tossing Arthur through the air.

"Arthur!" Al cries, bolting down the dune to where the wolf landed.

Adrenaline courses through him as he runs as fast as he can.

He starts to panic when Arthur doesn't get up, and the Acreta turns its attention to the prone wolf.

Alfred pushes himself harder, sliding down the dune just in time to block the snake as it makes to strike the stricken wolf, driving his blade hard down the beasts throat.

"Arthur!" He calls urgently, pushing the dead snake aside as he looks over his shoulder to the wolf.

' _ _Rrrugh...__ ' Arthur groans, his fur turning red with his blood, sending another jolt of panic through the knight, but Al is forced to keep fighting as the last two snakes make to attack. He hates that he has to leave the wolf's side, even for a second, but he has to draw the beasts away.

Running up under one, he draws them to follow back up the dune, ducking down behind the body of a dead one to set an ambush. He waits for his moment, listening closely to the crush of sand under them as they sliver, before he springs up, swivelling his body and carrying his sword swing with it, he cuts off both snake's heads in one go.

Finally, all is quiet, and Al pauses for only a second, before he's vaulting over the snake bodies and sliding back down to kneel by the wolf's side.

"Arthur!"

The red patches have grown as he's continued to lose blood, and Al's hands hover uselessly over his friend not knowing what to do.

' _ _Urgh...__ ' Arthur groans, panting from the heat as he rolls to lie on his stomach, ' _ _Fucking...snakes...__ '

"Artie! Thank the Gods, your alright." Alfred breathes in relief, slumping.

' _ _Mostly.__ ' The knight worriedly watches as Arthur winces, shifting his position, ' _ _Al? Do you think you can freeze the wounds? I would but...__ ' Arthur trails off, looking away.

The knight blinks, looking the other over. It's rare for Arthur to admit any weakness to him, so he knows he must be bad if his asking for help.

"I'll try."

Frowning in determination, he hurriedly sets his hands over the wounds along the wolf's back. As he focuses on creating a layer of ice to seal and try to stop the blood loss, Al is relieved to find the wounds not nearly as big or deep as he had first feared. He can still see some crystals of ice in the wolf's fur, and he realises Arthur must have frozen his fur over before the bite to protect himself.

"There." He sighs, feeling the drain of using his magic —something he's still far from good at, especially in this heat— as he looks over the lumpy and uneven patches of ice, "It's not perfect, but it'll have to do."

Arthur nods, grunting as he stands, Alfred right along with him.

With the Acreta in this area now dead, they can move on to phase two.

Pulling a mirror out of a pouch on his belt, Al climbs his way back up the hill, turns east and raises it above his head, angling it back and forth to flash with the reflection of the rising sun. He waits, and sure enough a few moments later he sees the flash of reply.

Plopping down in the roasting sand, he sits and waits for the group to make their way over, Arthur finally climbing up to lie next to him, panting heavily.

By the time he sees Gilbert leading the two dozen men with him, the air has turned foul with the stench of the slimy innards of the snakes cooking in the heat, thick black blood drying into the sand where they lie, and he's had to refreeze Arthur's wounds twice, though thankfully the bleeding has stopped for the most part.

"Ooh, good job kid." Gil whistles at the sight, grinning proudly.

Al smiles back, pleased at the rare praise, but Arthur makes his continual dislike of the albino clear by growling at the man —one meal won't buy his favour— not that Gilbert pays the warning any heed.

"Let's move."

They're now crossing into enemy territory, so they have to keep their guard up all the time.

* * *

Several hours of skulking their way up and over the dunes, making sure not to be seen, the sun is sitting high in the sky as they finally make it to their next target; the caves.

The Vipers nest, in a place call Vosil Cël, is heavily fortified.

But, there __is__ a way in.

At the entrance to the old cave system set in the rocky hills of Vosil, the group pause, pulling out torches to light and prepping weapons.

While the group prepares, Gilbert turns to look up at the sky and lets out three high pitched trill like whistles. Al is about to ask what he's doing, when the distant screech of a bird makes Gil grin, and watches with wide eyes as the man holds his left arm out and the biggest eagle he's ever seen descends out of the open sky to land on it.

" _ _Holy crap__ Gil, that bird's like half the size of you." Al gasps, only serving to make the man grin wider in pride.

"He's a beauty, ain't he?" The man coos, petting the large predator under the beak, "Raised Gilbird from a chick myself."

While Alfred is still gawking, Gil pulls a piece of parchment out from his pouch and slots it into the small cylinder on the bird's leg.

"Now be a good boy, and take that to Liz." He let's out another series of trilling whistles, and watches as the eagle takes off, flying up into the sky, off to deliver the message.

"Alright, listen up." Gil whisper shouts, as he turns back to the group, commanding everyone's attention, "These caves are old, but their tunnels are not well known, so they __should__ be unguarded. But don't let your guard down now, if the Viper __has__ somehow found out about them, expect traps, and lot's of them."

With that rousing pep talk, they go in.

Alfred and Arthur take up the rear as Gil leads the men up front, following an old patchy map, and every so often he'll stop and his eyes will shine as he uses his magic to look for the route to take.

Luckily for them, the tunnels are large and spacious, so Arthur doesn't have to squeeze his way through.

For a while, everything is silent. This should relax them, but it only works to set everyone more on edge.

It's not until Al notices Arthur sniffing the air that he realises something is up.

' ** _ _ **Artie? What is it?**__** ' Al asks, using his mind to speak so as to not draw any unwanted attention.

The wolf frowns, looking out into the light of the group ahead, ' _ _I don't know. This smell...__ ' he lowers his head, sniffing at the ground, ' _ _It's coming from inside the rocks.__ '

Sensing something is amiss, Al calls for the group to stop.

"What's up?" Gil calls back, and that's when it happens.

Arthur barely has time to warn Al of the distant sound of a rock cracking, before the hiss of rushing gas, and suddenly, the torch flames catch and the tunnel fills with flames.

* * *

The fire rushes and burns everything in it's path, scorching the cave walls, the force causing a cave-in as the lit gas ruptures the rocks. Back at the entrance, dust, rubble and flames spew out.

A fire tunnel trap, and they set it off.

And within the heart of it all, Alfred stares in awe as Gilbert holds his sword out, his Flame Blade, using it to absorb and redirect the raging fire around them, the flames from their torches rising up to the ceiling to spiral around the walls and disappear out behind them.

There's a collective sigh from the men, all clearly relieved to have Gil with them, and when the fire ends, as suddenly as it started —the torches extinguishing as a result— they're left in total darkness, only lit by the red-orange glow of the albino's sword. The entrance is now blocked by the cave-in, their pocket of space being the only thing spared from the destruction, large holes having opened up both above and below through out the tunnel, littering it with rocks.

"Well," Gil sighs, his eyes shining once more, "at least that answers that question. Be on the look out for more traps!" He calls, once again heading off down the only direction left to them, forward.

Deciding that lit flames are too dangerous to carry incase of another fire trap, two of the men quickly create a light orb with their magic. But doing so is draining, especially for long periods of time, so they move to the centre of the group, the most well defended area and take turns maintaining the orb.

As they go, now cautiously traversing the rubble filled tunnels, they run into more traps along the way; poison darts in the walls, spears set to drop on them, and worst of all, toxic gas. But Al is surprised to find the group is more capable than he thought, each in some way or another able to neutralise the threats.

It feels like they've been down there for days, but really, it's only a few hours until the reach their destination. Vosil Cël, or at least the cliff tops over looking it.

Al and Arthur remain in place at the cave exit as everyone else goes off to do their bit. They bide their time, waiting for the signal. Their group is the diversion, with three main tasks; disabled the church alarm bell, open the valley gate, and most importantly, locate the Viper. While Elizabeta's main forces should now be in position, ready to launch their attack from the valley any second now.

He hears a distant shout and suddenly, everything goes wrong as the bell starts to ring.

"Damn it!" He curses.

They were supposed to take that out, something must have gone wrong down there. He's now left with a dilemma, does he act now, or do they retreat?

' ** _ _ **Can you see anything down their?**__** ' He decides to wait it out, hoping Arthur might be able to see what's going on.

The wolf frowns, squinting down at the valley, ' _ _Humans running about.__ ' He lies down, leaning to look over the edge, ' _ _hmm, the uh, gate thing? It's still blocking the valley entrance.__ ' Arthur sounds unsure, still not used to all these human names for things.

"The gates still down?" Al asks worriedly.

When Arthur nods sluggishly, he frowns.

"Hey, you feeling okay?"

' _ _Mhh__ ,' Arthur hums, panting heavily, ' _ _it's too hot here.__ ' He complains, leaning more on the rocks as he lies looking down.

That's something Al can agree with, he can't imagine how hot it must be for him, with all that fur. In the back of his mind Alfred wonders if maybe they should consider cutting it, though he doubts Arthur would be too thrilled with that.

Instead, he focuses back on the task at hand. If the gate is still down then Liz's forces can't get in. And if they can't get in, their group'll be wiped out in minutes.

Making his mind up, Al turns to Arthur.

"Stay here Artie, I'm going to go open the gate."

' _ _What? No, I'm coming with you!__ ' He protests, but doesn't make to get up.

"No way. Sorry Artie, but your too big for stealth in somewhere as dense as this. Besides," he grins, "I need you up here as my eyes. You can tell me when the coast is clear or if something goes wrong."

Arthur tries to protest some more, but eventually gives in, much quicker than Al thought he would.

He frowns at the wolf even as he starts to climb down the cliff. Honestly he doesn't want to leave Arthur's side any more than he does, but they don't have much of a choice. He's still worried about the wolf's injuries, the ice he made has long since melted but the wounds have thankfully stopped bleeding completely now.

But if they want this attack to work, they __need__ that gate open.

Still, he can at least still keep in contact with the wolf.

' ** _ _ **Artie? How's it looking?**__** ' He asks as he drops down onto a ledge only a few dozen feet above the valley now, glad that the climb is an easy one.

' _ _No one is looking this way yet, but hurry.__ ' The wolf's voice sounds distant, as if he was speaking from far away, but still clear enough to be understood.

' ** _ _ **Right.**__** '

It occurs to Alfred now that he's only a few feet above the ground, that they haven't really had a chance to see from how far they can still talk to each other like this, and a seed of worry sprouts at the thought he might just have stuck his foot in it, but he can't back out now.

Jumping down from the cliff, he quickly dives behind a nearby wall and looks out. The gate house is about half a league away, but there's little cover between him and it, plus, more guards have gathered to defend it as the confusion of the alarm bell has set everyone on high alert.

' _ _Al, there's someone coming your way!__ '

He faintly hears the shout in his mind in time to move around the wall, wait, them leap back to attack. He grapples with one of the Vipers men, knocking the man's helmet off before managing to pull him into a choke hold, struggling with him until he falls unconscious. Setting the man down in the shadow of the building, he realises they're about his size and he grins as he gets an idea.

* * *

At the edge of the rocky valley outside Vosil Cël, Elizabeta taps her foot worriedly as she waits, her men all set for the attack.

Gilbert may says she's a good leader, but she hates all this sitting around. She's a woman of action, and she simply can't stand waiting. But even though it goes against all of her instincts, she forces herself to stay put, or risk jeopardising Matthew's plan.

She trusts him, even though he's young with no actual battle experience, the teen has more than proven himself to her. She knows, with the upmost certainty, that Matt is the best tactician there is.

But, as if the Gods were playing a cruel trick, just as she's reassuring herself, the distant sound of the alarm bell rings out.

"Something's gone wrong." She gasps, immediately jumping to her feet and spreading her wings, ready to run in and take matters into her own hands, to hell with the plan.

"Be patient Mistress." Antonio smiles, leaning on his battle axe, looking completely unfazed by the sound.

She frowns angrily at him, opening her mouth to argue, but huffs and sits back down instead, waiting for the signal from the lookout.

Antonio is right, they must be patient. Like Gilbert keeps telling her, plans can change and she needs to be able to adapt. Sure, alone she's strong, but even __she__ can't take on an army by herself. She needs her men, and they need her.

Looking to the cheery brunette, she gives a weary half smile, and he nods back; it's at times like these, that she's glad to have him around, Antonio is far better versed in this than her.

She returns her gaze to the distant cliffs, where she knows the lookout, Matthew, is waiting.

It's an agonising wait, but finally the signal is given; the gate is open.

As soon as they have the all clear, she's up and leading the charge, Antonio right beside her.

"Aaaarrh!" They cry as they run through the valley, cutting down sentries and confused guards who get in their way.

Once inside the old cliff ringed citadel, all hell breaks loose.

The sound of metal clanging and grunts and cries of fighting fills the air as the surprised Viper soldiers rush to meet these new intruders.

Alfred grins wide from his place in the guard house as he watches the Vipers become out numbered.

"Heeyaah!"

"Waaah!" He cries out, narrowly dodging an axe to the head.

Spinning around, he's met with a fierce looking Antonio, axe raised, ready to strike again.

"Whao! Antonio, it's me!" Al cries as he pulls the snake head styled helmet off.

"Huh? Ohhh!" Toni gasps, lowering the axe, "Sorry, didn't recognise you there. Why are you wearing the Viper colours?"

"Never mind that!" Al huffs, feeling the heat as he hurriedly strips them off the change back into his own, "I need to get back to Arthur, he's still up on the cliff."

"Ahh," Toni nods, cheerful once more, "Then I'll cover you, hurry."

"Right!"

They head back out, and Toni does just that, taking out anyone that tries to come near the cliffs.

' ** _ _ **I'm coming back up now. Artie?**__** ' Al frowns when he doesn't hear a reply, wondering if he's just too far away now, given how loud the fighting has become, he's not surprised.

But as he climbs and tries again as he get's closer, he grows progressively more worried when he still doesn't get a response.

' ** _ _ **Artie!**__** '

He sweating as he races up, but his ascent is interrupted by a crossbow bolt imbedding itself in the rock mere inches from his head. Luckily, Antonio still has his back and he's saved from any more bolts as he climbs.

"Artie!"

Alfred shouts up as he scrambles over the edge to the cave, eyes widening when he's met with only emptiness.

"Arthur!" He shouts into the depths of the cave, voice echoing back at him.

He doesn't understand it, there's no way back out thanks to the cave-ins, and Arthur would have come straight to him if he'd climbed down.

He looks out over the fighting wildly, but he sees no sign of the large wolf.

Forcing himself to calm down, he closes his eyes, trying to focus on their bond, and block everything else out. If everything he's been reading in his Dad's journals with Mattie these past two weeks is right, he should be able to use it to locate Arthur, if their bond is strong enough that is, and he prays that it is.

His eyes snap open and he finds himself staring down at an inconspicuous looking building that most of the fighting is taking place around, and he just __knows__ Arthur is in there.

He's never climbed down a cliff faster in his life, jumping to the ground and drawing his sword, he charges into the fray.

All around him there's fighting, and he runs into Gilbert as he slashes and cuts down two men that try to stop his advance. The albino doesn't need an explanation for Alfred's sudden attitude, he only nods and moves to fight back to back. Al is so caught up in the fighting to make it to that building, he's taken by surprise when what appears to be part of a stone pillar, drops seemingly out of nowhere and lands a few feet away, crushing at least four men to death. He blinks and looks up to the sky, mouth dropping open as he gapes at Elizabeta, wings spread, she flies over the battlefield, ripping of parts of buildings and throwing them at the enemy as if the were as light as a feather. And beside him Antonio suddenly reappears, swinging his axe and taking out three men at once as he joins them.

Gil, not one to be out done, kicks away the soldier he's fighting, turns and cuts another down as he pins them to the ground with his sword.

"Toni!"

As if it were choreographed, Antonio pushes away his quarry to spin and throw his axe at a soldier aiming for Gilbert, before crossing his hands over the hilt of Gil's sword.

" _ _By the wings of the Fire God Skeedia,__ ** _ _ **burn!**__** " He slams his hands down on the hilt and the blade glows as all the fire Gilbert had absorbed into it bursts out to engulf every Viper soldier.

Just like that, the fight is ended as every single enemy cries out and screams, burning alive.

As the last of the bodies drop, Toni lifts his hands from the sword and the flames instantly go out.

Alfred stares as he is both awed and horrified.

He had suspected it with the fire netting, but he never really believed it until now.

Antonio is a Fire __elementum__ user _ _.__

The shock of this almost distracts him from his search, but when he feels the shadow of something squeezing his lungs, he snaps right back to it.

The three others look on in confusion as Al dashes through the field and slams open the doors, charging inside.

He roars in frustration as he's met with a two way corridor, whipping his head back and forth, not knowing which way to go.

"Kid?"

Gil and the other two come in behind him, but Al ignores them as he feels like it's getting harder to breathe, but he knows it's not him, it's Arthur.

"Alfred." Gilbert snaps firmly, grabbing the panicking knights shoulders and spinning him around to face them, "What's going on, answer!" He barks and Al is just about able to get out something rushed about Arthur before the world seems to tilt and his legs give out.

"Shit! Kid hold on!"

"Give him to me." Liz orders and Alfred limply hangs from them as Gil passes him over.

He gets slung over her in a odd piggyback between her wings as he ponders the weirdness of it all. It's like his lungs are being crushed from the inside and the world flipped upside down. He can't even put up any resistance as Gil lifts his head to look him in the eyes.

"Where is he kid? Where's the wolf?" He demands.

"W-wolf?" He's so dizzy he can't think straight, but a name does come to mind, "Artie?"

"Yeah him. Where is he Alfred? Where did they take Arthur?"

It's odd he thinks, as suddenly the world is like a tunnel, pulling him towards that name; Arthur.

Most of what he manages to gasp out around his restricted lungs is gibberish, but he does at least manage to send them in the right direction.

They know they're close when Alfred is suddenly sick down Elizabeta.

Alfred's not aware of much around him, but he does know that Gil is the one to kick open the last door at the end of the hall, and that there's some sort of fight, but all he really knows is Arthur.

Oh, and the fact that Liz just through him at someone beside the wolf.

Through his blurry vision something purple seems to break, and suddenly clarity returns to Al's senses.

He blinks, as he sees Gil, Toni and Liz fighting a fare sized group, and winning too. The ground beneath him groans and he looks to see he's sitting on someone.

But none of that matters in comparison to seeing Arthur, lying on some sort of golden altar in the centre of a magic circle, struggling to breathe.

"Artie!" He scrabbles to get off the person, and rushes to the wolf's side.

"Artie say something!"

Now that his focus has returned, he can still feel that crushing sensation in his lungs, but it's only a shadow to him, the phantom pain.

' ** _ _ **Artie!**__** ' He pleads, shaking the wolf's shoulder.

Arthur's green eyes are glassy and unfocused, but they find Alfred, and he whines. The sound cuts the young knights heart, and furious, he spins to look around for the culprit.

"Aargh, bunch of __pests.__ " The man Alfred had been thrown at spits as he stands, glaring at Al.

Drawing his sword, Al points it at the man, "Blood Viper." He spits back, guessing this to be the man based on his looks.

Unlike the soldiers, this man is much older, with deep set wrinkles and greying hair, his silvery eyes hard as he looks down on everything as if they we're all beneath him, and his cloak, made of the head of an adult Acreta, all tell Alfred __exactly__ who this is.

"What have you done to Arthur?"

The man sneers at him, unfazed by the blade pointed at him and ignoring the question in favour of his own, "Who are you __boy,__ to speak **__**my**__** name?"

"I'm the Knight of Truth, now tell me what you've done?!"

Still, the man ignores his demand, " _ _Truth?__ Ha! What nonsense." He turns his head, looking over to the desperate —and losing— fight of his last few remaining men, and regards it as if he were watching grass grow.

"ANSWER ME!" Al near screams as he charges the Viper.

The man barely looks at him out of the corner of his eye, frowning in displeasure before returning his attention to the ongoing fight. He doesn't even look as Al raises his sword to strike, or when a snake, body as thick as his arm, shoots out from under his cloak to wrap around the knights neck and lift him off the ground.

Unable to breathe, Al drops his sword as he claws at the snakes choking him.

"Such a nuisance." The man sighs boredly, looking back at Al with complete disinterest. "You do not interest me," his eye's flick down to the snake as he calmly commands, "kill him."

The snake hisses in Al's ear as it tightens it's hold and black spots start to dance across his vision.

"Kiiid!" He knows Gilbert is near by, but the shout sounds so far off, he could be miles away.

With no air he quickly loses his strength, and his arms drop as he cannot keep up his struggle. He can hear his heartbeat roaring in his ears as darkness takes over and everything tunnels out.

* * *

...

...

...

... _ _Al...__

 _ _...Alfred...__

 _ _...do not give up...__

 _ _...son...__

 _ _...fight back...__

 _ _...awaken the power...__

 _ _..that sleeps within you...__

 _ _...live...__

 _ _...fight...__

 _ _...__ breathe _ _...__

 _ _...__ ** **FIGHT!****

 ** **...****

 ** **...****

* * *

Alfred gasps for breath, eyes snapping open and lifting his hands to the snake, ripping it apart with ease. Now free, he drops to the ground, coughing and gasping for air as he pulls the dead body from around his neck.

Above him, the Viper raises and eyebrow as he looks down at him, giving the young knight his full attention, "Now, __that's__ interesting."

He crouches, roughly grabbing Alfred by his chin as he continues to splutter for breath.

"You were dead. Yet you came back. How?" When he doesn't get an immediate answer, he squeezes the blondes face, "How did you do that? **__**Tell me!**__** " He shouts in the teens ear.

With bleary eyes, Al looks up defiantly, " _ _Fuck. You.__ " He rasps out, grinning as a Flame Blade is plunged through the man's back.

The Viper's eye's widen almost comically as he stares down at the blood soaked sword piercing him.

"You... _ _pests...__ " he growls, flicking his hand and causing a blast of magic to throw everything around him away, including Gilbert behind him. The blast causes Al to roll across the circle and slam his back into the altar Arthur is on, while Gil is thrown through the air to be caught by Liz and Toni.

Even with a sword through him, the Viper is still dangerous.

"How... _ _dare...you...__ "

As Al lies trying to get his bearings, the Viper turns his attention on Gil, and the three of them are forced to fight back, though it's clear the Viper's magic is much stronger then theirs, who are tired from the constant fighting. Still, even if he can barely stand, he know's he has to fight, he has to help. It's then that he notices his sword next to him, and grabs it as he uses the altar to pull himself to his feet.

' ** _ _ **Artie?**__** ' He hardly even has the strength to use his mind to talk as he leans over the wolf.

Arthur is still spacey looking, and his breathing is getting worse, but he's clearly looking at something.

Following the wolf's line of sight, it's then that it dawns on him. The circle, the magic it holds, it's affecting the wolf somehow. Realising this, Al frantically studies it, hoping to understand it.

But he only grows frustrated as it's clear this level of intricacy is beyond him.

' ** _ _ **Artie, Artie, what do I do? Please, just tell me what to do, anything, something,**__** ** **please!**** ' He begs, holding the wolf's paw.

' _ _...p...po...is...on...__ ' It's weak and broken, but Al get's the message.

Poison...

Poison!

Snake venom, the Acreta that bit him, how could he not have realised that sooner.

The circle must be magnifying the effects, so, logically, if reversed, it'll reverse them too. He doesn't know how to reverse a spell though, but like Arthur taught him, he doesn't need to know how, just do it.

Holding his hands out over the wolf, Al closes his eyes and prays to the Gods to lend him their strength, and unleashes his magic.

Cool ice energy flows from him and the circle begins to glow, resonating with him.

The sudden activation of the circle distracts the Viper, if only for a moment, but that's all the other's need. In the exact moment of the opening they had been hoping for, Gil kicks the feet out from under the man, causing him to lose balance as Toni swings his axe up and Liz jumps, kicking the man down into the axe.

Head and body land separated as the fight ends.

As the three are catching their breath, they look over to see the circle slowly dim and stop glowing as Alfred collapses.

"Shit!"

Gilbert is the first to make it to him, with Liz right behind while Toni looks between the knight and the wolf. They sigh in relief at finding them both still alive, but Al is out cold and Arthur, while looking somewhat better, is still very clearly sick.

"Get a healer here __now__!" Liz barks and Antonio dashes off.

* * *

 ** **Authors notes:**** Sooo... yeah...

Good news is they're not dead, but, well, not good either...

This was a loooong chapter, so, yup, that's about it. One enemy down, and that nearly killed them, and this is just the first.

On a lighter note, please imagine Gilbert raising a golden eagle from a chick to a 40 inch tall, 7 foot plus wingspan bird of awesomeness, that is all.

R & R people.

And as a side note, I'll be going on holiday soon, so I probably won't be updating until I get back, so I hope this extra long chapter can tide you over for now.

Until then, stay awesome!


	29. Reflections

Antonio sighs as he walks around the old citadel, seeing what its become. He pointedly ignores the charred corpses of the Viper soldiers, even as their own men work to give the dead a proper burial. He let's his mind wander as his feet carry him to places once well known.

Almost as if by instinct, he finds himself standing before a small stone house, carved into the cliff near the back ring of the city.

He sighs again, before giving a weak chuckle.

"Ahh, of course I'd come here..."

It's unusual for him to feel so melancholy, but coming back here was bound to stir up old feelings.

He let's out a sad breath as he pushes the half broken door open, an looks around at the mess with a growing sense of loss.

The house is small, with only a front room and a smaller back one.

What was once a cosy home —a central hearth ringed by cushion seats and a scattering of cooking equipment, an old bed in the corner with two smaller ones crammed into the back room, and the most beautiful pottery Antonio had ever seen filling ever nock and cranny— is now a dusty, run down and abused building, taken advantage of by the Viper and his men.

A crunch beneath his foot makes Antonio pause, and looking down his heart sinks even more.

Pieces of clay, smashed to the ground without a second thought, the beauty ruined.

He's caught between leaving and hopelessly looking around for anything that might have survived, but he knows, no matter how much he looks, what was once here is long gone.

Just as he's turning to leave, a familiar shape catches his eye. Half buried under a broken chair, and covered in a thick layer of dust and dirt, is an old portrait.

Carefully, he pulls it free and uses his hand to dust it off, smiling longingly at the image that greets him.

It's a simple portrait really, just two young boy's and an elderly man watching over them as they play. Softly, Toni runs his hand over the image of the older boy, over the grumpy frown trying to hide a bright smile.

Reaching behind his tunic, he pulls up the old locket he always keeps around his neck. With one soft press, it opens, revealing an image of the same boy, this time truly smiling.

That same smile, which once brought him such happiness, now only reminds him of all that he's lost.

* * *

26 years ago...

 _"_ _ _...98...99...100! Ready or not, here I come!" Smiling wide, Antonio turned from the wall to start running down the street.__

 _ _Colourful mosaic paths spread out beneath him as he ran, running around corner after corner, and past gardens and over waterways, nothing was going to stop him in his search.__

 _ _Wet footprints catch his eye, and he grins wider, following them to a pile of crates by the bakers house. He pauses for effect, acting as if he doesn't know, and can't here the hushed laughter, before pulling the lid off the crate.__

 _"_ _ _Found you~" He sings, twirling on bare feet in glee.__

 _"_ _ _Awww." The two girls whine, climbing out.__

 _ _Laughing the carefree way only a child can, Toni dashes off, back on the search.__

 _ _It's by the water well he finds Maria next, and he finds Feliciano hiding by the guard station after that, hoping that the soldiers would hide him.__

 _"_ _ _Found you~ found yooou~"__

 _"_ _ _Ve~ I was sure that would work." Feli cries, but Toni pays him no mind, he still has one last target to find.__

 _ _Running off once more, he criss crosses over the whole citadel, down every alley, around every bend, all the best hiding places he knows, but nothing.__

 _ _Frowning, he spins, looking all around, trying to think where Lovi might have gone.__

 _ _It's then that he hit's upon an idea.__

 _"_ _ _The cliffs!"__

 _ _His father had told him about some old caves in them, maybe that's where Lovi is.__

 _ _So, without telling anyone, he dashes off, scrambling up the rocks, looking for where the caves are. It's a long climb for a six year old, but uncaring of the height, or the danger, he continues on, until finally he pulls himself into a cave, hidden from view by the over hangs.__

 _"_ _ _Ohh, Looooviiii! I'm coming to fiiiiind yoooou!"__

 _ _He giggles as he wanders in, but soon finds the light cut off, and it becomes too dark to see.__

 _"_ _ _Loooooviiiii! Come out, come out, wherever you aaaaaare!"__

 _ _His voice echoing back is the only answer.__

 _ _Puffing his cheeks out in annoyance at seemingly being ignored, he stomps further into the tunnel, fumbling around the the dark.__

 _ _Now in complete darkness, and utterly lost he cries, "Looooviiii! This isn't fun anymore! I give up okay? Now come out!"__

 _ _He's about ready to drop to the ground and cry, when a cheeky voice sings back, "Ha! I win~" and out of the dark he feels a hand punch his shoulder.__

 _"_ _ _Waah! Looooviiii!" Jumping in shock, Toni latches onto Lovino like his life depends on it.__

 _"_ _ _Hey! Get off!"__

 _"_ _ _Nooo, then you might disappear again~"__

 _ _It's while their messing about that a familiar shout rings out through the tunnel.__

 _"_ _ _Prince, where are you?!"__

 _ _Lovino sighs, but Tino smiles, happy that the guards have found them.__

 _"_ _ _I'm here!" He calls back, holding tight to Lovi so he can't run off, "I found Lovi!"__

 _"_ _ _Wha! Hey, no fair, you gave up!"__

 _"_ _ _Mmh, but I still found you~"__

 _ _The tunnel soon fills with light, and the guards appear to take them back.__

* * *

Once more, Antonio finds himself sighing at the old memory.

"Ahh, that was not long before then..." he murmurs, before standing and turning his back on the past once more.

* * *

Matthew is worried.

It's been three days, and yet, neither Al or his wolf have shown any sign of waking up.

The Healer has done all they can, but even they can't figure out why the pair won't wake, and it's driving Matt crazy.

It's times like these he feels so utterly __useless__. Just like he was when the fighting started.

He's not a fighter, he's never trained for battle like his brother or Gil, or Liz or Toni...

The Bookworm... That's what Sadık called him, and he hates that he was right.

Ever since he was a kid, he's been surrounded by books. While Al trained, he sat reading. When his brother came back covered in bruises and scratches, he came back with dusty tomes and meaningless proverbs.

He was never the strong one, never the one to be relied upon, that was always Al. __He__ was just the younger brother, the other half to be protected...

...Until he wasn't.

Until the day their Dad suddenly died, or, rather, was killed...

Until he inherited the journals, until he cracked their code, found out the secrets of their father, of everything...

And suddenly, he wasn't the useless younger brother he had thought he was.

 _ _He__ was the older one, switched to protect him, to protect Al. And he was __trusted__. Their Dad trusted him, believed in him. That he was the __only one__ who could uncover what he had left behind. And he realised how wrong he'd been, all this time.

He wasn't just some shadow to Al, he was the other half all along. Two sides of the same coin, the brains to his brother's brawn.

He'd cried then, both for their father and for thinking so little of himself.

It was then, in the dark corner of the library, hidden away with all the journals that he made a vow, to __never__ think so little of himself again. __He__ is the older twin, it's down to __him__ to look after Al, not the other way around.

He gained a new drive then, putting all his efforts into finding out everything he can about the Order. He sought out old magics, spells difficult to master, but powerful if used right. Because even if he couldn't fight, he could still protect his brother in other ways.

But then... it all went wrong...

Suddenly Al was dragged back to the palace, a patrol gone wrong they said. He had tried to see him, but the guards wouldn't let him through.

Next thing he knows, Al is sentenced to exile, and it feels like his world is collapsing all around him all over again. They're all each other's got left, and he'd be __damned__ if he just sits back and let's this happen.

He was ready to grab his brother and run for the hills if they had to.

But then, just as he was about to make his move, Gil found him.

* * *

 _"_ _ _Let me go! He's my brother!" Matt cries, struggling against the albino Commander's hold.__

 _"_ _ _Listen to me! There's more to this than you know."__

* * *

That had been a real struggle, letting Al go.

For two years, he worried constantly, and updates from Sadık were few and far between. Gil assured him he'd be safe, but that didn't stop him lying awake at night, wondering how his brother was.

Two years was bad enough, but had Gil's plan still been going, he wouldn't have seen Al again for another four.

Six years, to build an army, to let Al develop his powers in the safety and solitude of his exile, to take down the Order. All derailed now...

Back then, he had been so naïve, thinking that he could take the Order on all by himself. But Gilbert knew, he could see the future, or more specifically, the most likely version of it and then effect it by changing events.

He had been __so__ ** _ _ **angry**__** , learning that it was Gil who made Al get exiled.

But then he calmed, and then he understood.

From then on, he took on a new role; Tactician.

Funnily enough, by being the Book Keeper's apprentice, he had access to all that he needed. He put all his energy into learning everything he could, mastering battle plans, and scouring the archives for anything and everything that might give them an upper hand.

And the Book Keeper's untimely death just so happened to be after the old man found Matt snooping about siege tunnels that might exist under the Capital. And it just so happened that the old man died before he could bring __any__ of these concerns to the King, leaving the way open for Matthew to be promoted to Master Williams, official Book Keeper.

But even that was a reminder...

After Al was exiled, Matthew had to change his last name to their mothers, to show that he held no loyalty to his exiled twin, and to gain the trust of the court.

He sighs, looking over his sleeping twin.

Even after all this time they've been reunited, he still feels like there's an invisible wall between them.

They used to laugh and cry and steal cookies together. They never kept secrets. They knew everything about each other.

Now...

He doesn't even know what Al is thinking anymore.

"I'm sorry Al..." He murmurs with tears in his eyes as he holds his brother's hand, crumpling where he sits to silently cry over his twin.

* * *

Elizabeta groans, quickly growing impatient.

"He's __still__ sleeping? Just how long does that boy plan on napping?"

Across the room, Gilbert shrugs, "Who knows. He did just die, remember? Cut the kid some slack."

"That was three days ago. He should be fine by now, surely." She huffs, watching the albino as he raids through the draws of a desk.

"Yeah, __but__ , he also did that weird magic thing too. Who knows what __that__ took out of him. Aha!" Grinning triumphantly, he waves his find, rum, in the air, "From what I remember, he should only __just__ be able to do basic stuff right now, nothing fancy."

Liz makes a face as she watches the man uncork the half empty bottle and give it a sniff, "Urgh, really? Your not actually going to __drink__ that are you?"

"What? It's still good." As if to prove his point, Gil takes a swig before continuing, "Anyway, it's not like we're in a rush or something. Take it easy for a bit, let your hair down for once."

As he says this, Gil rounds the desk to lean back on it, grinning mischievously at Liz as he takes a second, longer swig of the rum, grimacing at the burn.

Frowning, Elizabeta stomps across the small room, "We can't take it easy," she snaps, snatching the bottle out of Gil's hand, "Word of the Blood Vipers death has surely spread by now." She glares pointedly at him, before turning to pace as she worries, "We've taken out the forces here, but what about the rest? Viper men are spread out all across this region, and without their leader, there's no telling what they might do. The best case scenario is that the all disband and leave the region to us. Or factions could develop, and some might come after us for revenge, or even worse, another leader could rise up and band them together, or—"

"Liz, Liz, Liz," Gilbert chuckles, gently taking hold of her wrists to halt her movements and turn her to face him, "You __really__ worry too much, you know that? Take a breath, pause, and think about it." He smiles sweetly at her, sliding his hand down into her free one, "We've got this. The people here have been living under the oppressive rule of the Viper for years, they'll be __happy__ that he's dead. Men joined him out of fear, not loyalty, not like they do for you."

"But-" She tries to argue, but Gil stops her.

" _ _Relax,__ we've won for now. So just chill." Gently, Gil takes the rum bottle out of her hand and takes another swig before holding it out to her, giving her hand a comforting squeeze.

Liz stares unsure for a moment, before giving in and taking the bottle, tossing her head back and taking a massive gulp.

"Ahh, Okay. __One__ night." She stresses while Gil grins.

* * *

Alfred is... well he's not sure __what__ he is.

All around him is an endless white void, but he doesn't feel cold, so he knows it's not snow. Looking down, he can't see any sort of ground, but he can feel like he's standing on...something at least, maybe.

Cautiously, he walks forward, but it doesn't feel like he's going anywhere.

"Hello?"

Even his voice sounds both loud and silent, near and far. Nothing feels real, and yet he doesn't think he's dreaming either.

Suddenly, or maybe slowly, the endless white shifts, and wisps rise up before him, distorting the image of the blank world. Like smoke, or mist they shift, swirling and gathering, and gradually a shapeless form begins to appear.

"H-Hello?" He tries asking again, because it seems like the right thing to do.

The form doesn't answer, only shifting, like ripples on a lake.

"Um, what, what is this place?" Again, the only response is the waves of motion that pass through the white distortion.

It takes a moment before Al realises that the motion is in time with his voice.

He steps forward, but get no closer to the form, but some sixth sense tells him of a presence behind him.

Spinning, he finds another, larger, distortion behind him, one that was not there before, or maybe it's always been there.

"What's going on here?" He wonders out loud, because the endless silence is starting to get to him.

The second form doesn't ripple with his voice like the first, and for some reason that's more unnerving to Al than not.

"Answer me!" He cries, looking between the forms, watching the smaller ripple violently with his shout and the larger remain unchanging.

After an eternity, or maybe only a moment, the white of the world shrinks and fades, swallowed up by darkness, only lit by the strange shimmer of the distortions, who, now in total darkness, Al slowly begins to notice are emitted light. The smaller, a gentle blue, familiar and welcoming, and the larger a deep violet and hostile feeling, but somewhat recognisable sensation.

The blue form seems to call to him, and Al turns his back on the other, reaching out to the familiar, when a voice floats into his mind.

 ** **...So you would turn away for me..?****

"Who's there?" Al cries out, spinning to look for the source of the sound, but finding nothing but the second distortion.

 ** _ _ **...would you really make him choose..?**__**

A second voice sounds, but Al can neither tell if they are man or woman, nor where they are coming from as he looks around wildly in the dark.

 ** _ _ **...he is but a boy...**__**

 ** **...and yet he is what has been made...****

"Hey! Who are you, __where__ are you? __Where__ am __I__?"

 ** _ _ **...you are cruel indeed...**__**

 ** **...**** ** _ _ **I**__** ** **am not the one who weaved the threads...****

 ** _ _ **...very well...**__**

" _ _Hey!__ Wha-" Al starts to demand, but stops short when suddenly the two distortions shift and their light becomes blinding.

He's forced to shield his eyes from the light as the forms spiral and grow, closing in on him, their tendrils reaching out to brush his skin.

"Aaaarggghhh!" He screams in pain as it's like fire, a burning poison beneath the surface, filling every fibre of his being with endless agony.

He crumples to the nonexistent ground, folding in on himself in a feeble attempt to get away from the all encompassing pain.

 ** _ _ **...shall you burn or shine..?**__**

The voice asks, before the pain becomes too much and Alfred loses his sense of everything.

* * *

 _'_ _ _Arthur!'__

 _ _Turning from his lookout post, the young wolf is met with the sight of his older brother, panting from the run up the steep hillside no doubt.__

 _'_ _ _Alistair? What's wrong?'__

 _'_ _ _Come, now.' His brother doesn't elaborate, only turning to run back down the hillside.__

 _ _Curious, he follows.__

 _ _A harsh wind is blowing in from the east, a sign of winter approaching, so most of their pack should be on the lookout for anything to hunt, like he was. But oddly Alistair leads him to the great den, where the heads of their pack are gathered, all with serious expressions.__

 _ _As he follows his brother in, Arthur lowers his head submissively, in a sign of respect as he passes, before stopping at the lowest point of the inner cavern, the position a decree of his own status within the pack.__

 _ _Carefully, he makes sure to keep his head down and not to look any of the elders in the eye, only flicking his gaze up occasionally to see what they are doing.__

 _ _But one thing is clear, they all have disapproving looks as they stare him down, especially his father, the leader of their pack, looks down on him as Alistair moves to sit by the elders side.__

 _ _In that moment, a horrible sinking feeling of dread grips him, and he knows what this is about.__

 _'_ _ _Father I-' He starts, but is silenced by the deep, sharp growl of the elder.__

 _'_ _ _Bring her.' The wolf demands, and Arthur is forced to watch as his other brothers drag a scruffy and beaten female in before them.__

 _ _She's tossed unceremoniously into the centre, and the poor girl looks around fearfully, before catching Arthur's eye and looking at him pleadingly, but she knows better than to get up, keeping herself low to the ground.__

 _ _Arthur gives her an apologetic look for what has been done to her.__

 _ _Her once pristine white fur marked with light grey swirls, is now matted and clumped with dirt and her own blood. And her deep blue eyes, once filled with love, now only hold fear.__

 _ _Above them, his father growls angrily, 'You have disgraced our clan.'__

 _'_ _ _Father-'__

 _'_ _ _We have rules Arthur! We keep to our own, you__ ** **stay**** _ _within our boarders.' The elders one good eye narrows as he steps forward, using his paw to stand on the females head, pushing it harshly into the cold ground, and she, for her part, desperately tries not to whimper, 'You do not fraternise with the Frelin clan,__ especially __not one of their__ ** **whore outcasts!**** _'_ _ _He barks, pushing down on the girls head.__

 _'_ _ _She is not a whore!' Arthur shouts back, defiantly raising his head to meet his father's fierce gaze.__

 _'_ _ _How dare you raise your head to me.' The elder wolf growls, and all the others gathered, growl in disapproval at the blatant show of disrespect.__

 _ _He knows it's a bad move to go against his father like this, but he's already gone this far, and there's no way he's backing down now.__

 _'_ _ _Marianne__ _ _is not a whore.' He repeats defiantly, not looking away.__

 _ _Heartlessly, his father lifts his paw to kick her, forcing Marianne__ _ _to roll over and expose her belly and separating her back legs to show to all gathered, 'And yet you have laden her with your seed.'__

 _ _He harshly kicks her again, as if she wasn't even worth being beneath his feet, and growls in disgust.__

 _ _Unable to watch this anymore, Arthur lunges forward, 'Stop that!' But he's stopped by his brother's grabbing him with their teeth and forcing him down to the ground.__

 _ _His father lords his presence over him, casting a long shadow and forcing Arthur to squint up at him, 'No son of mine should be seen with such a low ranking female as__ this. _'_ _ _He growls, lowering his head dangerously over his rebellious son, 'And for her own crime of allowing you to mate with her, she has been kicked from her own clan. She is a__ ** _ _ **whore**__** _ _and an outcast. So tell me, just what do you expect me to do about this? We are the mighty Kalra clan,__ ** _ _ **we**__** _ _do not take in strays and__ ** **whores.**** _'_

 _ _Under the harsh glare of his father and the painful bites of his brother's, Arthur looks down, not out of respect, but to meet the searching and fearful gaze of Marianne, 'I do not know. But I won't leave her to the wilds, she is mine.' He flicks his gaze back up to stare at his father, 'She is__ ** _ _ **mine.**__** _'_

 _ _His father narrows his eye, 'You foolish boy, one day, you will learn.'__

* * *

When Arthur awoke, it was to find Alfred asleep by his side, the twin slumped over in sleep next to him, and loud, slurred, singing coming from down the hall.

Sadly, he regards Alfred.

Marianne was his, she, and their son was his pack. But then he lost them, all of them.

Now, Alfred is his pack.

Upon his life, he swears, he won't make the same mistake, he won't lose Al.

He can't, not again.

Pulling the sleeping blonde into his paws, Arthur breathes in his scent and sighs, ' _ _Never...Again...'__

* * *

 ** **Authors notes:**** I return! Sunburnt as all hell, but damn it was worth it.

Kind of plot this chapter, if you know where to look, also flashbacks! Cause who doesn't love a good flashback or two?

But yes, this story does have past Fruk, but with fem France who is a wolf, who is also dead, probably, so... I did kind of hint at it in chapter 12, but, you can probably guess who they had as a pup, who is also probably dead...

On a lighter note, for any PruHun shippers out there, this extra scene is for you.

* * *

After a day of reminiscing, Antonio was ready to just crash and go to sleep for another blissful night, but on his way to the bedrooms of the building they had decided to make camp in, he is distracted by the most Gods awful singing he's ever had the misfortune of hearing.

His curiosity temporarily out weighing his tiredness, he follows the sound and stops at a half open door to peek inside.

He stares for only a minute, before quickly going to find Matthew.

"Matt, wake up." He whispers hurriedly, shaking the sleeping teen.

"Hmmmh?" Matthew groans at being disturbed.

"Wake up, come on, you'll want to see this."

"Huh?" The blonde asks sleepily, "See what?"

"Quick, before they pass out."

"Eh?"

Confused, he tiredly gets up to follow Antonio as he snickers through the halls, slowly realising he can here horrible singing.

Stopping back at the same doorway, Toni grins, snickering, "See?"

Peering through, Matt can't help but laugh too.

Inside the room, both Gilbert and Elizabeta, drunk off their asses, are singing an old war song as they dance in circles around each other in the tiny space.

"Oohhh, anddd the flaaames will falllll!" Gil belts out, slurring horribly and way out of tune and Liz giggles uncontrollably.

"And the deeeeeaaad will knoooooow!" She joins in, spinning three times on the spot and somehow not falling over as she raises the rum bottle up over her head.

Gil cackles as he grabs her hands, kicking their legs out between each other, "Wheeeeen waaaar shalllll coooomeeee!"

"We shall drink the ruuuuum!"

They giggle, but in the tiny space and all the clutter on the floor, it was surprising that they only just now trip and fall, landing in a tangled heap, passed out before they even hit the ground.

"...I'm going back to bed." Matt yawns, shaking his head.

* * *

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	30. Moving forward

Alfred's eyes snapped open as he finally awoke after nearly four full days of sleep, carefully held in Arthur's paws. For a moment, he tried to recalled the strange dream, but like grasping mist on the wind, it vanished as soon as he reached for it. Though, his train of thought was derailed anyway by the wetness he felt on his cheek, and a second later he found out what the source of it was.

Arthur, for reasons currently beyond Alfred's sleep addled brain, was, of all things, licking him, or at least his face anyway.

"Um, Artie? What are you doing?" He asked slowly, not sure if he should be uncomfortable about this.

Clearly not having realised Al was awake yet, Arthur jumps back, releasing his hold on the knight and looking away.

' _ _O-oh Al, I uh, didn't know you were... I mean I was just... um...__ ' he trails off awkwardly, not looking at the blonde as he shifts about uncomfortably.

But before Al can ask more, another answers for them.

"Stimulation right?"

Surprised by the voice, Al jumps slightly as he looks to his side, finding Mattie tiredly smiling up at him.

"Mattie!" He cries, happy that his brother made it through the attack alright and lunging over to hug him, "Man is it good to see you, and what'd you mean stimulation?"

"Good to see your finally awake too," Matt sighs, relieved, "And I meant the licking. Arthur's been licking your face to try to bring you round ever since he woke up. That's what it was for right? I've read about animals using licking as a way to stimulate breathing and regulate heartbeats and stuff, so I just assumed that's what he was doing." His brother pauses for a moment, looking thoughtful, "That, or he was grooming you."

"Arthur?"

' _ _...I...it was just...um...__ ' The wolf continues to mumble out, and for a moment Al forgot that Arthur couldn't understand what Mattie was saying, though he wished he could, it would make things so much easier.

"Hey." He says softly, drawing the wolf's attention back to him, ' ** _ _ **Were you just trying to wake me up?**__** ' He asks gently, smiling up at him before frowning slightly, ' ** _ _ **Or are you trying to say I need a bath again?**__** '

' _ _You always need a bath,__ ' Arthur huffs, before mumbling quieter, ' _ _And you were sleeping for awhile...__ '

Deciding to change the subject, Matthew switches to ask, "How are you feeling?"

"Weirdly, I feel fine." He frowns, trying to remember what happened, "That Guy, the Viper, he said I died, and then came back?"

"Gil said that too. He tried to get to you, but he was too late. But somehow you came back, thank the Gods." Matt sighs the last bit like a prayer of relief.

"Yeah... now that you mention it. When I was dead, I... I think... no I'm __sure__ I heard a voice."

"A voice?" His twin leans forward, intrigued.

"Yeah, it called me son."

"Do you think it was dad? Like his ghost or spirit or something?"

Surprisingly, Al shakes his head, growing more certain of this by the minute.

"No it was a woman's voice... Mattie I know this is going to sound crazy, but..." He lifts his head to look his brother dead in the eye, "I think it was mom."

His twin frowns it thought for a moment, before pondering, "But how can that be? We never knew her, there's no way you could know her voice. But if it was her spirit, I suppose it could make sense."

Al nods too, but feels like he's forgetting something else.

But before he can say anything more, their conversation is interrupted by a new voice, grumpily grumbling along with multiple curses as Gilbert stumbles into the room.

" _ _Fuuuuuck__ , why the hell did I drink so much."

He's squinting and looks like he has the world's worst hangover as he comes in, pausing as he tries to decide if he's just seeing double or if that is Al sitting up in bed next to Mattie. He blinks a few times, before his pained grimace twitches with the beginnings of a smile.

"Finally up eh kid?" He whispers hoarsely, the quietest Al has heard him since sneaking through the tunnels.

"How long was I out?"

"About four days, your wolf woke up yesterday, been guarding you and hardly let anyone near you since." He furrows his brow more, clearly the hangover is making it hard for him to speak even at this volume, "You __really__ need to get a handle on him." He grumbles, before whispering even quieter, "And I'd avoid Liz for now if I were you, that woman does __not__ handle hangovers well." Before turning to leave.

* * *

Once Alfred is back on his feet, and Matthew has fed Gil and Liz some weird concoction he claims can cure hangovers, they gather to decide on their next move.

"Alright listen up," Liz barks as she stands over the small desk in the tiny room, everyone crushed in around it while Antonio stands guard outside the closed door.

"With the Viper dead we've taken out a major player of the Order, but," she sighs, running a hand through her long hair, wings slumping slightly, "We've also created another problem. As ruthless as he was, the Viper maintained order in this territory. This," she gestures around them, "Vosil Cël used to be the Capital and home to the King of the old Kingdom of Meshar. But, twenty five years ago, the Blood Viper, backed by the Order of Noceum, lead an attack on Meshar. The King and his family were killed, along with anyone else who opposed them." She sighs, shaking her head at the senseless violence, "Now, with no royal family left and the Viper gone..."

"We've created a power vacuum." Matthew finishes for her.

Gilbert nods grimly as he folds his arms, "Right now, the Viper soldiers still in this region, as well as outside threats, will be looking here to see what happens next."

"Yes," Liz agrees, "We have the seat of power, but now the question is what we'll do with it? We obviously can't stay here forever, the longer we wait around, the more time we give the Order to strike back."

"But we can't just leave things as they are, can we?" Al asks worriedly.

"What else can we do?" Liz huffs, "Our aim is not to conquer, we have no need to maintain our hold of this land. Not anymore, now that our plans have changed. And besides, do you know how difficult it is to establish a new seat of power? Their royal family is gone, so there's no one left to take up this void."

Alfred opens his mouth to argue back, because he just doesn't feel right leaving when things are in such a mess —especially one partly caused by them, his honour wouldn't allow it— when the door suddenly opens.

"Actually, that's not __entirely__ true." Antonio says as he comes in, carefully closing the door behind him.

"Antonio?" Liz asks, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Forgive my intrusion, but I think it is about time I told you the truth, Mistress." He nods to Liz, before taking a deep breath and begins to explain, "The royal household of Meshar is not all gone, __I'm__ still alive."

He watches the group give him a mix of confused and blank stares before continuing, "Do you remember when we first met? I was but a boy in rags and you took me in, even though you were barely a woman yet and had nothing to your name as it was." His smile is bittersweet as he recalls the memory, "You asked my name, and I told you it was Antonio Fernández Carriedo but, that was not exactly true. You see, I lied, my full name is actually Antonio __Hernández__ Carriedo, son of Alonso Ordas Carriedo, first Prince and heir to the throne of Meshar." He bows to the group as he says this, before straightening and continuing, murmuring sadly, "I lied, because I was on the run, my home destroyed, my family killed before my very eyes, and my friends taken from me. I had no choice but to hide who I really was, lest I be killed too."

He then chuckles, but it sounds forced and his smile is strained, "When you told me you wanted to go after the Order, and asked if I would follow you, I thought it was ironic, that I, a Prince, was swearing my allegiance to a commoner." Gradually, his smile becomes more natural as he reminisces, "But by then, I had stopped thinking of myself as such, and agreed. Do you remember, the vow I made to you then, in the back alley of that tavern?"

Liz nods, though her expression is careful not to give away anything of what she is truly thinking, "Yes. You swore to follow me no matter what, to Hell and back if you must. It was because of you, that I gained this monicker; Mistress. It was always what you called me, ever since I took you under my wing." She gives a lopsided grin at the pun.

Toni chuckles lightly, nodding as he smiles softly, "I could not help it, your face looks so much like my governesses did, the mistress of the palace they called her. I thought it fitted you well." He pauses again, smiling longingly at the memory, before he shakes his head and meets the groups stares seriously, "You do not need to worry about what to do. From here on out, Meshar is my responsibility. I am the only remaining member of my family, and as such, it is my duty to take up the throne once stolen from us and restore this land back to its former beauty, before the Blood Viper came and defiled it."

While the others are still clearly processing this, Liz nods in understanding.

"This is good. As one of the royal family the people will accept you better than anyone else, and this way we don't leave the region in turmoil." She frowns in thought before looking to Antonio and asking, "Do you have any way of proving all of this?"

"Don't you believe me?" He sounds a little hurt by the possible accusation that he is lying, but Liz just shakes her head.

"I know you Toni, I __know__ when your lying, so I know that every word of this is the truth. But the people will need proof, not me."

"Oh." He frowns, before reaching down his tunic to pull up the pendent that he never lets anyone see, "This was a gift from my father, it bears the royal-seal, will it do?"

Gently Elizabeta takes hold of the pendent, turning it over in her hands as she studies the intricate markings of the seal.

"Yes, this is proof." She smiles warmly at him, "Welcome home, Prince Antonio."

"Whelp." Gilbert shrugs, breaking up the tender moment, "I sure as hell wasn't expecting __this__ today."

* * *

Alfred was no less surprised by the news of Antonio's true identity, but was even more surprised by how quickly the news spread of his return to the throne, and even more so by how open the people were to all this.

A week later, and it was as if the Blood Viper never existed in the first place. Two days after sending out word of Toni's return, dozens of people started to flock to Vosil Cël, helping to clean up and rebuild, whilst any remaining Viper soldiers seemed to just disappear into thin air as jubilation swept across all of Meshar.

By the end of it, Alfred actually felt quite sad about having to leave, but they had to keep moving. Already, the Order has begun strengthening their defences, and if they don't make a move now, they'll leave themselves vulnerable to attack.

But through it all, Alfred has this niggling feeling that he was forgetting something important.

The feeling would come and go, more so when he trained with Arthur.

' _ _Al? Is something troubling you?__ '

"What? Oh, no... well yeah kinda...I don't know..." He sighs, giving up on trying to freeze his cup of water.

Beside him, Arthur gives him a curious look.

' _ _You seem distracted by something.__ ' He observes, before shaking himself to try to get rid of some of the sand that has been continuously clogging his fur.

"Yeah, I feel like I'm forgetting something really important, but I can't for the life of me remember what." He huffs, leaning back on the bench as he watches a pair of girls working to restore the stone mosaics paths hidden beneath the sand.

' _ _If you've forgotten it, how do you know it was important?__ '

"I don't know, I just do." He huffs, trying to think what it might be, but doesn't get long as he's soon hit in the face with a heavy sack.

"Don't just sit around all day kid, remember we're moving out today."

Al groans from the hit, but nods, getting up to follow Gil, Arthur trailing behind him.

Yesterday they had made their decision.

He, Arthur, Mattie and Gil would be heading north, to the Mighty Wilderness to find the Frost Siblings. While Liz is to return to Daská with her men to maintain the situation there, and guard against any attack coming down from Talmeré either by Saris or King Momarîs. Together, she and Antonio will now work to unite the southern Kingdoms under their rule, already plans are in place to make the alliance between Meshar and Daská official. The hope is that seeing this, the other two major regions, the Valechi territory to the west, and the Kingdom of Krineln to the north, along with the nomadic tribes scattered across the Western and Eastern Deserts, will join them.

As Al follows Gil, he finds Mattie putting the last of the supplies into a wooden cart with three horses tethered to a post near by.

"We good?" Gil asks as he tosses another sack onto the pile, gesturing for Al to do the same.

"Yup, we're all set." He nods as he moves to adjust the positions of the last few sacks, while Gil moves to untether the largest horse and get it harnessed up to pull the cart.

As they work, Arthur huffs, panting from the heat beside Al, which suddenly draws Matthew's attention.

"Oh, that's right! Al come over here a sec."

With nothing better to do as Gil seems to have things handled, Al walks over to his twins side, who is digging about in his satchel.

"What's up?"

"I've been doing some reading, and I found this spell..." he mumbles distractedly, before happily pulling out the same old book they stole from the Capital and flicking through it to find the right page, "Here, see?"

He shows the book to Al, but the text on the page is in a language Alfred has never seen before, the only think he recognises is his brother's handwriting on the sheets of parchment that sit between the pages, not that he can read that either.

"What is it?"

"Oh, right, I forgot you can't read it. Well, it's written in old Gorgorein and it details this super powerful ice curse."

"Curse?"

"Yeah!" Al gives his twin a cautious look and Mattie only grows more excited as he talks, "You see, there's this old legend about this lost kingdom who's king was supposedly made of living ice, and he would curse his enemies with ever lasting ice on their bodies, and it would start of small, but it'd grow and slowly consume them until they froze todeathandbecameincasediniceandwouldbecomeaneverlastingservanttotheKingwhocursedthemand-"

"Whoa whoa whoa, Mattie slow down." Al grabs his brother's wrists to stop his tirade that was becoming hard to understand, "Why are you telling me this again? What's so good about a curse?"

"Oh right." His brother grins a bit sheepishly at realising he had gotten carried away, "It's like this, see this curse causes ice to continually grow on the body of the one affected, but I was able to break it down and found that it's based on an older variation of a temperature regulator spell, the kind Gil uses so he doesn't burn to death out here."

"So that's how he's fine?!" Al cries, annoyed Gil forced him to train in such heat when he could have easily avoided all the suffering.

He can hear Gil laughing at him while Mattie blinks at his surprise as it it was obvious.

"Well, Yeah. Anyway, I was able to rework the spell, so it'll work as a more powerful regulation for cooling you and Arthur down."

"Wait, you can __do__ that?"

Smiling proudly, Mattie stands a bit straighter as he nods, "Yup, basically I took out the curse parts of the spell, so it's harmless now. But it can only work on an ice mage user, and since you now share Arthur's ice magic, that means you."

"Sweet! Mattie your the best twin anyone could ask for!" Al cries happily hugging his brother.

"Well, it just made sense you know? Like how Antonio is more susceptible to the cold because of his fire magic, your more susceptible to the heat because of your ice magic.

Stepping back, Al grins wide, "Then lay it on us!"

"Right."

Arthur, who, given that he can't understand half the conversations Al has with people, had taken to staring up at the cloudless sky and daydreaming, as he often does now whenever Al starts talking to others. So he was rather caught off guard when a flash of light flickered around him, forming a ring of white light with unknown runes dancing within it.

He jumped to his feet and tried to back up, but the ring followed him. Instinctively he growled at it, hoping it would go away if he seemed threatening enough, but stopped when he heard Alfred laughing.

"Chill dude, just let Mattie work."

Only then did Arthur notice the look of deep concentration on the twins face as he spoke —though what, Arthur could only guess at— and spot an identical ring around Al.

He watched warily as the rings of light contracted, and the dancing runes flipped out of the circle to be drawn to both his and Al's bodies. The rune imprints on Al's skin and Arthur's fur glowed softly, before a rush of cool air blasted them, causing their hair and fur to flutter in the breeze as a cooling sensation tingled across their skin as the runes and circles then slowly faded out.

"There." Matthew grinned, only looking slightly winded from the effort as Al and Arthur marvelled at just how __refreshing__ the air now felt.

"Now that that's sorted, get on the damn horses, we're leaving." Gil calls down to them, already sitting on the cart, the horses reins in hand.

"Right." Al nods, moving to mount up.

As they move out, they spot Antonio and Elizabeta with Gilbird on her arm waiting for them at the gate.

"Good luck!" Toni waves cheerily, using one hand to hold the old crown upon his head in place, while Liz nods to them as they pass, Gilbird taking flight to follow in the air.

Gilbert grins, whipping the reins, "Let's move out!"

* * *

In a darkened hall, whose size and grandeur stand as both a testament and threat to all who enter, a man sits lazily upon a mighty throne. With an elbow on the armrests of gold, head tilted and held up by his hand, and one leg crossed to rest on his knee, eyes closed and sitting there in all his robes and finery, he is the picture of relaxed.

Until he grins, something small but sharp, and danger exudes from his very being as he lazily opens his glowing red eyes.

Lining this grand throne room of his, and standing as stark contrasts to the swathes of gold and silver and shimmering gems of all kinds and rarities, is life-sized stone statues of fallen enemies, forever immortalized in their moment of death.

But what is of interest to him, is the lifeless woman chained to the massive central pillar before him.

Hungrily, he runs his eyes over her, flicking his tongue out to run over his pointed teeth as she jerks back to life, gasping in a desperate breath, and immediately glaring up at him.

"Well, __Priestess__?" He purrs, "What say your __Gods__ now?"

Switching from a glare to an impassive look, she regards the man boredly, "They say as they have always said. You will not succeed." Despite the uncomfortable position of having her arms constantly held above her head and feet barely touching the ground, she shrugs, as if her situation was of little consequence to her, "Nothing will, and nothing __has__ changed. How many times must I tell you this?" She sounds more exasperated than one might expect from someone in her situation.

Still with that lazy grin, the man sighs, not changing his position of comfort as he eyes her as a parent would a child who they have repeated themselves to a hundred times over, "As many times as it takes, until those Higher __fools__ realise my true worth."

"And just as many times I shall tell you, they see you as they see all, beneath them."

The woman smirks, long blonde hair falling about her face as she lifts her head to follow the man's movements as he suddenly sits up, furious, "I am beneath __no one! All__ are __beneath__ me!"

"And yet, here you are." The woman smirks wider, deep violet eye shimmering with mirth.

The man's nostrils flare as he slams his hands down to tightly grip the arms of his throne, before suddenly becoming eerily calm once more, his posture relaxing as he sits back in his seat again.

"The Blood Viper is dead, Sadık is in chains, and Momarîs is becoming more useless by the minute. The grand Order has not had this much trouble in some time." He grins, but this one is wild and crazed, "And yet, I see through all your __plans__ , time and again your little __rebellion__ _ _s__ have failed. So tell me, who __really__ is in charge here?"

Through all of this, the woman remains impassive as ever, as if she is used to these rapid changes in the man, "As it has always been, The One Who Weaves the Threads."

"Wrong!" The man's eyes narrow dangerously, "I __see__ through all, even __they__ cannot control my path."

Finally the woman snaps, "You see only what you want to see! Even here, even now, your stolen eyes are but a mere shadow, an __imitation__ of True Sight, just as all you have taken. You will fail, and we will live free once more. My sons will see to that."

A lopsided smirk spreads across the man's face as he raises his eyebrows at her, "What has been made can be unmade, no prophecy is absolute." Without taking his eyes of her, he calls out to the hall, "Vargas! Send word to the Siblings, they should be expecting guests soon, and order Saris to strengthen the Borderlines in the south again. This time against Fire magic."

A stuttering voice responds, "Y-yes my Lord!" Before the sound of running feet quickly disappears out the hall.

Seemingly pleased with this, the man smiles once more as he raises his right hand, blood red sparks of energy leaping about his finger tips, their light even more noticeable in the dully lit room, "Now, why don't you go tell your __Gods__ to reconsider my offer again."

As he speaks, the sparks grow in size and number, collecting into a crackling ball of pure energy suspended in his hand, before he flicks his wrist, sending the orb hurtling at speed towards the woman. She, rather than show fear, only sighs in exasperation once more, before the ball hits. Her body jerks violently as her muscles spasm and a blackened hole is scorched into her chest, charring what little remains of her already tattered clothes, filled with identical scorch marks, killing her once again.

The man breathes deeply, grinning madly at the scent of burnt flesh. He leans back as his eyes glow bright, seeing beyond this hall to watch two brothers as they laugh together, riding through the desert lands.

"Hurry along now boys, don't keep me waiting. It will soon be time to pick your ripening fruits."

* * *

 ** **Authors notes:**** Ah see, plot! I knew we'd find it again.

But yes, things are a happening, as they tend to do, as the lads head off to find their next target. Plus not so subtle glimpse here of our big bad for this story as more mysteries reveal themselves.

And let me tell you, I'm excited for this; Wilderness = hell of a lot of monsters.

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	31. Travels in the desert

The Kingdom of Meshar is quite different to how Alfred imagined it.

He had expected to find bustling towns and cities around rivers and lakes, and maybe a few out lying villages dotted about here and there. But then again, his estimations are really all based off of what he knows from Talmeré.

Instead, what they find is only a hand full of sizeable lakes, with only a scattering of houses still standing around them, as the majority of the places they pass look more like run down ruins than a place of inhabitance. When he had asked about it, Gil had laughed bitterly and told him that Meshar hasn't been anything near bustling for over twenty years, not since the Blood Viper took over. But, hopefully, under Toni's rule and Elizabeta's aid, life can finally be breathed back into this ancient Kingdom.

As they travel north and get farther and farther away from the tall cliffs of Vosil, this, a tiny town wedged at the bottom of three particularly large dunes, is where they find a glimmer of that hope.

The homes, all built not of stone but of sun baked mud bricks —surround a small oasis that must be the only reason anyone can survive out here— making the town near impossible to spot as they blend in with the endless red sands. So much so, Al is convinced he never would have seen it if Gil hadn't pointed it out.

"This'll be our last stop before entering the Eastern Desert, so enjoy it while you can." He explained as he lead them down.

The people were nice enough, happy to barter shelter for some of their supplies, which seemed fair.

But when Gil mentioned that they were the ones who brought Antonio back, Al feared they might be kicked out, going by the stunned stares.

He didn't expect them to suddenly throw a party, nor to be treated as guests of honour.

As the sun set, a massive bonfire of anything broken and discarded was built by the waters edge, and by dark it was lit to the sounds of music and joyous laughter. All the finest goods these people seemed to have been keeping for a rainy day were brought out to be enjoyed to their fullest. Children sang and danced around the fire while the adults drank and cooked a feast for them all.

Sitting on a log overlooking the little body of water, Al watched as the smoke rises up to disappear over the dunes, and a couple giggle happily before the husband pulls his wife close to kiss her enthusiastically.

He looks away, not wanting to seem like he was staring, and his gaze wanders to Arthur, causing him to smile amusedly.

From what Alfred can gather, Arthur's part in helping their 'lost Prince' return to be crowned King, is a good omen. He even heard an elderly man claiming that it was almost like an old tale he half remembers from childhood.

Either way, in thanks of the perceived blessing, the towns people have made it a point to shower the wolf in gifts.

At first Arthur was a little wary of the attention, and maybe a bit annoyed by it, but now he seems to have just given in.

Looking him over, Al can see the swirling markings of red that cover his fur, and the large crown of weaved reeds and water flowers taken from the oasis that sits upon his head, and every so often someone will bring him more food to be stacked in front of him.

Grinning, Al gets up to go tease the wolf. As he walks over, he spots Mattie with a number of young women circling and fawning over him, and Gil drinking with a group of men. Even Gilbird is being honoured as he sits on a perch in the center of a table, his wings being painted with some sort of yellowy powder and a desert rat gifted to him.

As Al passes, he catches pieces of conversation and can't help but chuckle at his twins predicament, it seems that those women are trying to marry him, much to Mattie's discomfort.

"Hey Artie!" He smiles, coming to sit on a rock beside the wolf.

Arthur blinks over at him, mouth full of some kind of meat. ' _There you are._ ' He gripes, but keeps chewing away, ' _What'd you wander off for?'_

"Eh, just to take in the atmosphere a bit." He shrugs as Arthur looks at him with that familiar confusion of his when ever Al has said something that he doesn't understand.

But Arthur just shakes his head a bit, used to Al's odd phrases now, but stiffens when a young man comes up to him.

"We thank you , Great White One." He bows, then tosses a handful of coloured powder over Arthur's back before scurrying off again.

Arthur sniffs, making a face.

' _Can you_ please _tell them to stop doing that?_ '

"What? They're thanking you, it'd be rude to tell them to stop." Al smiles cheekily as another pair of kids come up, repeating the process, but this time they also leave another chunk of meat at Arthur's feet. "And besides, you like it really."

' _I do not!_ ' Arthur huffs indignantly.

"Hehe, you do~ And besides, I think that crown looks nice on you~" Al teases in a singsong voice.

Embarrassed, Arthur looks away, flicking his ears against the crown where he can feel it resting. Quietly, Al hears him murmur, ' _I didn't tell them to make this stupid thing..._ ' And Al playfully punches the wolf's leg, because he can fell through their bond just how happy Arthur is with it.

The celebrations carried on late into the night, until, the fire, with nothing new to be added, started to dwindle and eventually died out.

Come morning, everyone gathered once more to bid them farewell, but not before they all got a good look at the artistic markings covering Arthur.

"Huh, you know red's a good colour for him, very striking." Mattie notes as he studies the surprisingly intricate lines and swirls.

"No way, red and white is _my_ thing!" Gil cries, aghast that anyone would try to copy him, "Only my awesome self can carry off such a bold combination, it just looks silly on him."

Arthur shifts a bit, uncomfortable from all the staring, as Al finally voices his thoughts.

"Red and white is nice, but I like his natural colours better. You can't see his lighter blonde highlights under all this red."

Arthur stares at him for a full minute, before looking away and mumbling so quietly even Al can't understand what he's saying. But Alfred is more surprised by the sensation that tingles through him from their bond. He recognises it as embarrassment, but it's different than any he's felt from Arthur before, and it's tinged with another feeling he can't quite describe, but he swears, if wolves could blush, Arthur would be bright red right now.

He's left there in mute confusion as Arthur paws at the sand, wondering what he said to get such a reaction.

But before he can say anything, the villagers start to pour out and greet them.

"Once again, allow me to thank you all, for all that you have done for this land." The elderly man from last night nods to them as he comes over, before turning to look at Arthur, "I never thought the day would come that I would see such a magnificent creature in our humble town. Before you go, please, would you do us the honour of blessing our village?"

Quickly stepping forward as Arthur's mouthpiece, Al nods, "Sure, we'd be happy to."

Smiling gratefully, the man waves towards the lake, "This oasis is the source of our life here, if you could, bless these waters with your presence."

Alfred takes a moment to think, then nods, "Sure. Heh, Artie kinda needs a bath anyway."

Quickly the people move to surround the water, wanting to watch as Al turns to Arthur.

' ** _Artie, how'd you feel about going for a quick dip?_** '

' _Dip?_ '

' ** _Yeah, in the water. You can get cleaned off of all that paint stuff._** '

Arthur blinks, then nods heading for the water and Al smiles to himself. He knows that Arthur is oddly proud of his coat and doesn't like getting it dirty, and even though he still doesn't quite get the idea of relaxing in a warm bath, he knows the wolf would be more than happy to get cleaned off.

If Arthur is bothered by all the people watching, he doesn't show it as he climbs in, going under completely before lifting his head out, a trail of red spreading out around him as the paint is washed off.

At the waters edge, the old man holds out his hands, "Oh Great White One, we thank you for this blessing upon our land and our village. We shall sing songs of this day for centuries to come so that we may never forget this blessed day."

Suddenly getting an idea, Mattie leans over and whispers to Al, "Can Arthur freeze the water?"

"Uh, Yeah. Why?"

"Have him freeze it when he comes out, ice is hard to come by here, it'll certainly be a good blessing for them."

"Oh, right. Gotcha."

He passes the message on, and Arthur turns to get out. Clearly deciding to be showy about it, just as his last paw leaves the surface, he freezes it all solid in an instant.

The people gasp at the sight and Gil steps forward, loudly announcing, "We give you ice in this place of endless sun, may you forever prosper in the eyes of the Gods."

As the towns people hurry to harvest the ice before it all melts again, the four pack up and head out once more.

* * *

The dunes seem endless, but again, Gil knows where he's going, and stops them at the middle of a dune that doesn't seem important in any way.

"Alright, this is the boarder, after this point we cross into the Eastern Desert."

"How can you tell? It all looks the same to me." Al asks, looking around but not seeing any kind of marker.

"Can you see the Borderline?" Mattie asks, looking to Gil curiously.

"Yup, here, watch." He lifts his hand as his eyes glow, and the pair watch as a rippling distortion rises up before them.

"That's a Borderline?" Al asks as he watches the golden light ripple in the air before them.

"Mmhm. I've told you about them before in training, remember?"

"Uhh..." Honestly Al has kind of forgotten most of the lessons that didn't involve fighting.

Mattie picks up on this and helpfully explains, "The Borderlines are the invisible barriers between territories and Kingdoms. Supposedly they were originally created thousands of years ago and have been adapted over time to what they are today. Most are harmless, but if someone knows how, they can manipulate them to block passage or even injure anything that comes in contact with them."

"It's why you only find certain beasts in some places and not others, these barriers keep them from coming through." Gil huffs, annoyed that Al forgot.

"Oh right. Now that you mention it, I remember you also said they can be used for detection right?" He asks, hoping he's right.

"Yup. But the Viper never seemed to know how to work them, and since no overly dangerous creatures live in the Old Kingdoms the barriers where never adapted to keep things out, so that's why we could sneak through them. But getting between Talmeré and Daská is harder, because Saris controls the Borderline at the south with Krineln. Sadık was the only one who could get us through without detection, but now that's not an option anymore."

"It's why we had to leave for good when we got you out, Saris will have known it was us, and our positions within court would have been compromised." Mattie finishes.

"Oh, that makes sense." Al nods, turning back to the fading distortion, "So is this one safe?"

"It's just a monster guard, so it's fine." Gil waves off his concern, tugging the reins to drive the cart onwards.

Mattie shrugs and nudges his horse to follow, Al doing the same, but gasps as he feels a stinging sensation run through him, halting his horse and turning to look back. He knows instantly that the feeling was shared pain from Arthur, and sure enough, he sees the wolf growling at the air between them.

"Guys wait! Arthur can't get through, it hurts him." Hurriedly Al dismounts and rushes over to the wolf's side.

"Damn, didn't think about that." Gil frowns, scratching his head.

"Easy Artie." Al speaks softly, trying to calm the wolf.

' _Something attacked._ ' Arthur growls, ears back and teeth bared as he looks around, ready to strike.

"It's okay Artie, nothing attacked you, it was just a barrier." Al tries to reassure him, a little worried that Arthur isn't listening to him.

"I don't get it Gil. How'd we get Artie all the way here without any of these bothering him before?"

"Mmh, well Toni's fire warping basically burns a hole through the ones we crossed to get to Daská, so they wouldn't have affected us, and like I said, the one between Meshar and Daská wasn't being used to keep beasts out."

"I guess we've just been lucky not to run into one like this before." Mattie adds, looking thoughtful.

"So what do we do? Arthur _please_ calm down." Al begs, trying to keep a hold of the wolf's leg, "Artie's really agitated now."

"Just make him go through." Gil says simply, "We can't stay here all day, and it'll only hurt for a moment."

"Wha?" Al balks at the idea.

"Isn't that a bit cruel?" Mattie asks, worriedly looking at how aggravated Arthur seems.

But Gilbert is undeterred, frowning he gives Alfred a hard look.

"Your supposed to be able to control him right? Well it's about time you got your shit together and started acting like the Beast Master your meant to be." He turns away, but adds over his shoulder, "Your father would have had no problem with something as easy as this."

"Gil!" Mattie cries, shocked that he would use their father's name to justify himself, but the man just sits with his arms crossed as he waits.

"No way." Al frowns, "Yeah I can control him, but I don't like doing it if I don't have to, and I'm not going to force Arthur into something that'll hurt him."

"Maybe there's a way around this?" Matthew interjects before a fight can start, "If we can just..." He mumbles thoughtfully, before gasping at an idea. "Ah, Yes! If we can put a human element onto Arthur's presence then the barrier shouldn't react to him."

"Uh... you kinda lost me there bro."

But Matthew continues undeterred, "No no, it's fine. Actually... if I use the bond between you two as an anchor point then... if we can manipulate an point feedback... or a singular transference..."

He continues to mumble, losing both Al and Gil as he paces back and forth, searching in his satchel for a particular book. He pauses as he flips through the pages, it's not the one they stole, but it isn't one Alfred recognises either.

"I've got it!" He cries, suddenly looking up, beaming with ideas as he comes to Al's side, completely forgetting any wariness of Arthur, and hurriedly explains, "Dad's journal's mention something about attribute transference, it's something you can temporarily do to gain powers similar to your Beast, but what if we were to reverse it? And give the Beast _human_ attributes instead?"

Alfred gives his twin a blank stare as he questions what in the world he's talking about.

"It's simple see, all this time, you've been taking from Arthur, but what if you _gave_ to him?"

"Eh?"

Matt sighs as he tries to think of a way to put it that Al will understand.

"Think of it like this, your magic is a container, and Arthur's is a separate one, but your bond links them right?"

"Okay, I understand so far." Al nods slowly, trying to follow where this is going.

"Well, so far, you've always been sharing from Arthur right? Like taking from _his_ container through your bond, but what if you _gave_ to him, your power, your magic. What if you were to try sending him some from _your_ container _into_ his?"

" _Oooh._ " Al's eyes widen as he finally gets it.

He's never thought of it like that, but it makes sense. Since his ice magic is a result of the influence of Arthur's magic, then all this time he's been taking that element, that attribute from Arthur to add to himself.

Looking to the wolf, Arthur has at least calmed down a bit, but still looks like he expects to suddenly be attacked again.

' ** _Artie listen to me._** ' He decides to use his mind to talk, since he's found that Arthur is more likely to listen this way.

' _What?_ ' The wolf snaps, sounding on edge.

' ** _Chill would you?_** ' Al sighs, ' ** _I didn't know that there was a barrier here that would hurt you, but it's_** **okay** ** _, we have an idea._** '

Slowly Arthur calms, looking to Al curiously, ' _A barrier?_ '

' ** _Yeah, look, Mattie says I should send you some of my own magic, and that would let you pass. I don't really get it but I trust him._** '

Arthur pauses for a moment, looking between the twins before slowly nodding.

' _Alright, I trust who you trust._ '

' ** _Great!_** ' Al beams, before frowning slightly, ' ** _Now I just need to figure out how..._** '

Arthur gives him an amused look as he sighs, ' _Have you learnt nothing?_ '

Alfred opens his mouth, but before he can ask what he means, Arthur lowers his head and presses it to his, closing his eyes as Al slowly feels himself becoming oddly tired. His muscles grow heavy as his eyelids slip shut and he leans into the wolf. His mind is drawn to their bond as he becomes aware of Arthur's tug on it. It's an odd sensation to say the least, like the gentle relaxation of a massage mixed with the heaviness that comes after a long run. It only lasts a moment before Arthur pulls away and the feeling disappears, but it felt so much longer.

The whole thing leaves him a little disoriented as he stumbles forward into the cart. Blinking, it takes him a second to notice Arthur and Mattie looking at him, and a second more to notice that that means Arthur passed through the barrier unharmed.

"Congratulations Kid," Gil mocks sarcastically, "It only took you two twenty minutes to walk two feet."

Matthew rolls his eyes as he pats Al on the back, giving him a gentle smile, "Let's just get going."

Beside him, Arthur frowns at Gilbert, ' _Shut it._ ' Which makes Al blink stupidly at him before it suddenly clicks and he cries, "Wait can you understand them now?!"

Arthur too, seems taken aback, not having realised this sudden revelation until Alfred pointed it out.

Tilting his head in thought, he looks to the two others and ponders, ' _Maybe that is the... what did you call it... attribute? That your magic gave me._ '

"Wait wait wait." Gil says, turning around fully in the cart to look at them, "You mean wolfy there can understand us now?"

Annoyed by the nickname, Arthur growls lowly at Gil, ' _Don't call me wolfy._ '

Smiling, Al cheekily looks at Gil as he tells him, "Yup, and he _really_ doesn't like you calling him that."

Mounting back up, Matthew comments that this is a good thing, while Gil settles for quiet grumbling, but it ends up benefiting them all.

* * *

As they ride, Gilbert warns them that from here on out, it'll be a lot more dangerous, and as such, they take on a defensive formation. Matthew, as the one with the least fighting experience, switches to ride the cart while Gil takes his horse, Alfred riding to the right, Gil up front and Arthur walking along side them to the left.

The plan works well, a good thing too, as they soon start to run into creatures.

* * *

They start out small, a few packs of Scocreox —dark scaled, fox like beasts, roughly the size of a large dog— occasionally tail them, sometimes bolder ones would try to nip at the horses legs, but a growl from Arthur proved to be more than enough to scare them off.

Gilbird also started to gain his own problems as a small group of Zuconea, two headed vultures, started to follow them from above.

But these were all small inconveniences compared to the much larger, and far more dangerous creatures they started to encounter.

It began at night, when Alfred was roughly roused by Mattie, who was on watch, to the sound of low roars traveling on the wind.

"Get up kid." Gil snaps at him as he tosses Al a shield out of the cart, Arthur waking up beside him from the disturbance.

Still groggy, Al fumbles around for his scabbard and pulls out his sword as he stands.

He opens his mouth to ask what's going on, but stops short when Gil signals for him to stay quiet while he pulls Matt to hide behind the cart.

The roar comes again, and Arthur's ears flick towards the sound as he frowns, his superior hearing allowing him to pick out the individual numbers hidden in the mass of sound.

Alfred's seen that look plenty before, the way Arthur's nose twitches as he sniffs the air, the way his ears lock in the direction of the sound, the way his pupils narrow and head lowers, the shift in his stance, all of it tells him one thing; Arthur is sizing up the threat.

' ** _How many?_** ' He asks as he moves into position on the opposite side of the cart from Gil.

Arthur shift slightly, seeming uneasy for some reason as he quietly murmurs, ' _Twelve._ '

Al nods, then signals Gil, sharing this info through hand signals.

He barely has time to see Gilbert nod back before they suddenly appear, black shadows cresting the distant dunes and blocking out the stars behind them.

In the light only from the stars and the half moon, it's impossible for Alfred to make out what they are beyond general shape and size.

From the glimpse of shadowy limbs he can tell they're humanoid, roughly the size of a man, maybe a little bigger, and fast. They scurry quickly over the dunes, some on all fours, some upright, and some switching between the two, as they let out another cacophony of roars, but now closer, the roars sound far more strangled and far to much like a human voice for Al's liking.

Out of the corner of his eye, Al sees Gil signalling, but is more concerned with Arthur, who has gone oddly still, and a sudden jolt through their bond at another low roar tells him that Arthur is scared.

Alfred frowns as he watches him step back.

There's something familiar about this fear, and he realises, it's the same fear he's felt coming from the wolf when he has nightmares, the same sinking fear when the wolf has woke in the middle of the night, before he remembers where he is, and it feels the same as the creeping fear he felt coming from Arthur when they were separated in the cells of the Capital.

' ** _Arthur?_** ' He asks gently, cautiously.

Those creatures will be upon them any second, he needs to get him under control _now._

As much as Alfred dislikes using his gift to force Arthur to obey him, he poignantly remembers what happened at the Capital. They can't risk him losing control like that again, and with no time to calm Arthur down, Al has little choice but to command him.

As the creatures reach the bottom of the dune, now only meters away, and Arthur visibly takes another step back, Alfred takes a deep breath and puts all his will into his voice as he orders, " _Arthur, calm down. You have to fight, now!_ "

Compelled by the command, the fear Al felt coming from Arthur instantly disappears as the wolf lowers his head and growls threateningly. It's much colder in the desert at night, so Arthur has no difficulty in casting his magic, and both Al and Matt watch as the wolf's eyes glow and his fur freezes over, creating an armour of thousands of tiny interlocking icicles.

A moment later Arthur lunges forward, his paw prints in the sand glistening with ice crystals as he brings his jaws down on the neck of one of the beasts, dragging it down to the ground and ripping it apart.

Alfred doesn't waste anymore time staring either, as he dives out from behind the cart —sword raised and small shield held up to defend— and cuts down the first of the creatures closest to him. On the other side, Gilbert too is fighting, his red eyes glowing as the beasts within his line of sight freeze in place, paralysed by his magic as he goes in to finish them off.

As they fight, Alfred gets a better look at the creatures; leathery skin patched with scales, talon-like fingers and fang-like sharp teeth, long spiny tails and burning black eyes.

He jumps back as he pulls his sword free of another he's run through into the ground, now knowing exactly what they are, and why they don't stay down even when he delivers what would normally be a fatal blow.

He's only ever seen a true one once before, a chained and half dead specimen that was waved around like a trophy by an elder knight when he was fourteen.

"Gil, you never said anything about demons being out here!" He cries as he cuts another's head off, which seems to be the only thing that makes them stay _down._

"That's because there shouldn't be!" The man shouts back, having a hard time himself.

Alfred thought Arthur was just being brutal because he'd ordered him to fight, but it seems the wolf had the right idea from the start, going for the necks to sever the head.

Just as he thinks that, a bark of anger draws Alfred's attention to the wolf. The majority of the demons seem to have singled the him out as the most dangerous, as five of them surround the wolf, and Arthur cries out as one jumps up onto his back while another goes for his back legs, looking for any area not protected by the ice.

But before Al can get to him, a demon manages to pass him, going straight for Matthew.

"Mattie!" He shouts in horror filled worry, fearing for his twins life, but is quite surprise when the demon goes flying, hurtling past Al's ear to slam into one that was about to jump him while his back was turned.

"I'm fine, go help Arthur!" His brother shouts as a deep violet light ripples around him in a bubble of protection.

He hesitates for only a second before nodding, trusting his brother and heads for the wolf, cutting off the heads of the two prone demons as he passes.

"Arthur hang on!" Al calls as he runs, watches the wolf struggle

Arthur kicks and shakes his body to try to free himself of the demon on his back as it tries to dig its claws under his ice coated fur, while another has latched itself onto the wolf's neck by biting down into the ice armour.

Not wasting any time, Al pulls the demon from his neck, cutting it's head off before going for the ones at Arthur's legs, trying not to be kicked himself in the process.

While he was busy, Gil must have dealt with the ones that went after him, as he suddenly appears by Alfred's side and helps to pull the demons away. He can't use his paralysis spell with out also freezing Arthur, so they have to do it the old fashioned way, pure grit and determination.

They managed to get the two away and kill them, and now freed of the restrictions to his legs, Arthur throws himself onto his back, using his size and weight to crush the demon and dislodge it's hold. With the help of Al and Gil pulling, it works, and Gilbert quickly delivers the finishing blow as Arthur jumps to his feet, looking for his next target.

Fight now over, Alfred hurriedly pushes against the agitated wolf's leg and he quickly commands, " _It's okay, just calm down. They're all gone now, you don't need to fight anymore. Your okay._ "

Just like before, the responses is instant as Arthur calms.

He sighs, looking tiredly at Al, ' _Al..._ ' he lowers his head and huffs, breathing his hot breath in the knights face and making his hair flutter, ' _You didn't need to order me..._ '

Now Alfred feels guilty, because just as he dislikes doing it, he can feel through the bond that Arthur also doesn't like it.

' ** _Sorry._** ' He apologises, raising his had to pet the wolf snout.

"Ugh." Gil's voice breaks them from their moment, as they look over to see him holding up one of the demons heads.

Matthew too, comes over to join them, no longer with the protection bubble around him.

"What are lower demons like these doing here? I thought they only lived inside the Wilderness."

Gilbert shrugs as he tosses the head over his shoulder, wiping his hands of the dark blue blood on his tunic.

"My best guess is that this is the Order's doing." Looking up to the slowly lightening sky, he sighs, "Well, we can't stay here, might as well get moving."

As Gil wonders off to ready the horses, Al lightly punches Mattie in the arm.

"Hey, you never told me you knew any protection spells. What else have you been holding out on me?"

Matthew grins slyly as he shrugs, "Not much. Just the usual, you know, basic stuff."

" _Riiight_." Al drawls, not believing him for a second.

Alfred smiles as he turns to Arthur, watching as his ice armour slowly begins to dissipate, and pats him on his slightly damp fur. He can tell the wolf is still uneasy, as he remains oddly quiet —and only sniffs in distain at the dead demons, not even considering eating them— but, like always, Arthur never seems to want to talk about it, choosing to retreat into his mind instead.

So Al will let him be for now, and should the time come when he wants to talk, Al will be there for him.

* * *

 **Authors notes:** And we're on the road again~

Man this chapter just didn't want to end and turned out waaay longer than planned, but hopefully that's a good thing? But yeah, kinda filler, but who doesn't like wolf Artie in a flower crown? Or badass Arthur ripping things to pieces? Or maybe your here for sad, angsty Arthur?

Meanwhile Gilbert's secret power is off screening all the enemies... Don't worry though, you'll get to see his awesome fighting style in full soon enough. And Mattie is also slowly starting to shine.

To answer **Myisha0203** , No Arthur doesn't have a human form, he's a born and bred snow wolf.

 ***slight spoiler***

However, as you'll soon see, shapeshifter magic _does_ exist in this world, so there's always the _possibility_ of gaining one.

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	32. Darkness Found

Of all the things Matthew expected to encounter in this venture, _this_ certainly wasn't one of them.

The day had started out so well too, or as well as things can be expected to be out in the vast desert. They were making good progress for once; with only two minor attacks from a hungry pack of Scocreox following them, and the dunes slowly becoming less like mini mountains every five minutes to more like steep slopes scattered around, they were finally able to pick up the pace and cover more ground quicker. But, their mostly peaceful ride was not to last.

It began with a cry from Gilbird as the eagle circled in the air not too far ahead of the group. The view was blocked by the hill of an upcoming dune, one that was oddly much larger than what they had been seeing recently. Despite this, Gilbert knew instantly that something was wrong, he could tell from just the cry alone, but the way his bird was circling only enforced his certainty; something wasn't right.

Gil took the lead, hurrying his horse up the sandy hill and the others had quickly followed, only to stop and stare in soundless shock.

"W...what... _happened_ here?" Matthew whispers after what feels like an age.

But none of the others answer as they all continue to stare in silent shock at the scene before them.

A massive, blackened crater, stretching across hundreds of feet of what was once mostly open plains, and several meters deep, scars the land before them. This alone would be a curious, if unsettling sight, but what truly has the group stunned, is the dozens of bodies littered across the floor of the crater. Duammi —peaceful, bipedal, man sized reptilian-like creatures of burden— lie scattered amongst the human dead, and, even from this distance, going by their clothes, Matt and Gil can tell exactly who they were.

Gil stares for only a moment more, before he suddenly dismounts and begins to venture down the steep blackened edge. The other three quickly follow suit, and by the time Matthew reaches the bottom with his twin and Arthur at his heels, he can see Gil solemnly going through the dead, checking for any survivors, but they all know there's not much chance of that.

Quietly, Matt watches as Al steps over to one of them, a young girl, she can't have been older than four, lying motionless in the black sand.

"Damnit..." He sighs heavily as he kneels down beside her, confirming that she too is lost, before looking up to survey the rest, "Who were they?"

"Nomads." Gil answers, rising up from the side of one of the Duammi to hold up a scroll he'd found, "By the looks of it, they were one of the native tribes to this desert. Seems they were on their way to Daská for trade."

Frowning, Al looks down to the poor dead girl, "But what happened to them? I can't see any sign of a wound or sickness, there's not a single mark on them."

He swallows heavily, and Matt quickly comes over to place a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder. He knows how much Al hates seeing loss, and he knows with the certainty only a sibling can have, that Al is blaming himself for not having been here to help these people. Even though they knew nothing about this before now, he knows how much his brother wants to be able to protect everyone.

While Al gives his twin a shaky smile, Arthur finally steps forward to give the dead girl a curious sniff.

"Don't you dare..." Gilbert warns as he comes over, fixing the wolf with a hard stare.

Arthur glares right back, growling lowly, ' _I am not so_ crass _as to disrespect your dead by_ eating _them._ ' Before turning away to sniff the ground, ' _But this... There is a scent that hangs in the air, beyond that of death._ '

Looking up Al tilts his head in question, "A smell? Like what?"

Arthur frowns and paws at the sand, but rather than the red sand being revealed under the black, only more charred sand is to be found.

' _Look, the earth has been stained deep by the foul force that was here. And this smell, it is like those dark creatures from before.'_

"Dark creatures? You mean the demons that attacked us a few days ago?"

Arthur nods but doesn't elaborate any further, now looking rather disgusted with the back sand clinging to his fur.

Gil sighs, looking over the dead, "Well, there's not much we can do for them now. Let's just give them a decent burial."

* * *

By day's end, the lost tribe has finally been put to rest and the group move onwards. They continue north, heading for the border. And though they run into a number of beasts seeking to attack them, none are as dangerous as the demons, which, thankfully, they haven't encountered anymore of.

By the time they start to run out of supplies —only a handful of rations left— and they abandon the cart to the desert, they come across a camp of one of the other nomadic tribes, nestled in the low rocks where the barren sands start to meet more fertile land.

It is here they pass on the news of the lost tribe, and learn an even sadder story; that tribe was a branch clan to this one, they were family.

As they sit within a large tent held up by part of the rocky overhang, Alfred asks about the girl they found.

"Olefia, that was her name." An older man tells them, a pained smile stitched across his aged features, "Bright, young and beautiful. Her loss is a sad one indeed."

"I'm sorry, I wish we could have done something..." Al mumbles, looking down and rolling the clay teacup between his hands.

"Oh but you have. You helped put our family to rest, that is more than we could ever have asked of you, stranger." As he speaks, the man's smile becomes a bit more genuine.

Despite the somber mood in the tent, happy cries of children can be heard outside, and from their shadows dancing in the firelight cast on the tent flaps, they can see the image of small figures climbing around a much larger one.

At the sound of such gleeful giggles, the man can't help but chuckle.

"And, I must thank you for helping to entertain our children. I'm afraid there's not much in the way of fun to be had in these parts, and the little ones grow ever so bored."

To Al's right, Gil snickers behind his cup and grins, "Yeah, I bet wolfy is _loving_ being used as a climbing frame."

Matthew however, seems a little more concerned, looking over his shoulder to the silhouettes as he accepts another refill. Subtly, he leans over to whisper to Al, "Are you sure it's okay?"

Waving his twin off, Al smiles, "It's fine. Believe it or not, Artie actually likes playing with kids." His smile widens as he listens in to the quiet grumbling and empty threats of the wolf, not that the children outside can understand them, but Al can, and it makes him happy to know Arthur is back to acting like his usual self again.

The old man nods sagely as he watches one of the young children run into the tent, giggling and smiling as he tries to sneak some of the dried meat out. No one stops him, and the boy takes that as his chance to dash back out, no doubt planning to feed Arthur the stolen food.

"There is a kindness to that beast, a rare thing for the children of the Great Nankeke. The young ones see it, that is why they do not fear him."

Gilbert shrugs, leaning back on the rug, "I wouldn't call it kindness, stupid thing growls at me all the Gods damned time."

"Artie's nice, _you_ just keep annoying him. He wouldn't growl if you'd just be nice to him." Alfred huffs defensively.

Gil opens his mouth to argue back, but is beat to it by Matthew.

"You have to admit Al, he _does_ act pretty aggressive to Gil. It's like he's always looking for a reason to snap at him."

Staring at his twin, Alfred falls silent for a moment, because it's one thing for him to argue with Gil, but he finds it much harder to disagree when it's Mattie. And yeah, he's right. As much as Al wants to defend him, even he can't deny that Arthur does seem to take exception to Gil. Which is odd, now that he thinks about it. Usually Arthur tends to avoid most people if he can help it, despite his large size, he's always behind Alfred whenever they're around large groups of people, as if the wolf is trying to hide. He tolerates people when they come near him but would prefer to keep his distance, unless they're kids, then he doesn't seem to mind so much.

But, it's different with Gil, Arthur seems to make it a point to always growl or snap at the albino, and when Gil is around, Artie's _never_ tried to hide away behind Al.

Alfred frowns as he realises, in fact, Arthur tries to put himself _in front_ of Al.

He would ponder this further, but a terrified scream from outside derails his train of thought.

"What's going on?"

Rather than receive an answer, Gil jumps to his feet and dives out the tent to go investigate. Not wanting to be left behind, Al quickly scrambles out after him and Matthew follows, but pauses before leaving to tell the old man, "Wait here, we'll go see what's happened."

The camp is small, only a handful of tents all nestled in the little rocky outcrop that juts above the ground, so it's not hard to see past it to the open sands surrounding them to the south, or up to the rocky plains spreading north.

Gilbert waists no time in heading straight for the source of the scream, a woman on her knees staring unseeingly out to the south. But when he reaches out to her, he sees how cold and pale she is, and a sinking feeling washes over him as he touches her neck.

"She's dead." His voice is carefully monotone, looking out to where see was staring as Al joins him.

"What?"

Suddenly, before either of them really have time to process what's happening, a black shape is charging at them having appeared out of thin air. Gilbert's eyes glow as he instinctively tries to paralyse whatever is attacking, but much to his and Al's horror, it has no effect. There isn't enough time for Al to draw his sword, and they brace themselves for the attack. Al thinks he sees what looks like a shadowy hand reaching out to his face, before an ear splitting howl rips through the air, and the figure screeches in pain as it dissipates, as if blasted apart by the sound.

Blinking dumbly, it takes a second for Al to register what just happened, turning to look behind them. There, standing at the top of the outcrop, is Arthur, in a stance that reminds Al of the first time they met, except this time there are several children hidden under his legs in fear.

He looks to Gilbert for an explanation, but he seems to be at just as much of a loss as Al is. Thankfully, Matthew reaches the pair then, the older man in tow, clearly having decided to follow them.

"What the _hell_ was that?"

Mattie shakes his head, just as clueless, but the old man looks around worriedly, before pulling the trio away from the dead woman, muttering with a stricken look.

"Oh may the Gods have mercy on our souls. We are doomed... doomed..."

"Hold on, do you know what that was?" Al asks, worried by both the odd attack and the man's distressed state.

He doesn't think he'll get much out of the man as he only continues to mutter as if he can't hear them, so Al switches to ask Arthur instead.

"Artie!" He calls up to the wolf.

Arthur tilts his head at him, signalling that he's listening, but doesn't look away from his post, scanning the horizon as if he expects another attack to suddenly materialise. And Alfred belatedly realises, it's because he does.

"What was that? The black shadowy thing?"

The wolf's eyes narrow, and from this position, Al can see him anxiously shifting about, and see the way he's actively using his tail to keep the children hiding under him.

His response is not what Alfred expects, nor is it overly helpful.

' _Death._ '

"Death?" He parrots, and the old man only seems to grow more agitated at the word.

"Enough of this." Gil growls, harshly grabbing the man by the shoulders and shaking him, "Tell me what that _thing_ was!"

"Gil!" Mattie cries, shocked by the rough treatment, but the albino doesn't let up.

"We don't have time for messing around, tell me what that _was. Now!_ "

The rough shaking finally manages to get through to the old man somewhat, and he fearfully looks up at Gil.

"Pavicso." He gasps, "Sand devils. Evil spirits."

The name means nothing to Gil, but Matthew's eyes flash with recognition as he places his hand on Gilbert's shoulder to stop him from shaking the man anymore.

"Gil stop, I know that name, I've read about them." He waits for Gil to release the old man before continuing, "Pavicso is the nomad name for Death Walkers."

"Oh shit..."

Now Gil get's it, but Al is still in the dark, so Matthew elaborates.

"A Death Walker is the spirit of someone who died an unjust death and their soul is trapped in this plane, unable to move on, left seeking a way to be released. We have to be _really_ careful, these things are deadly, if they so much as _touch_ you, you'll die."

"Oh _fuck_..." Gil gasps, eyes wide as he suddenly understands something.

"Gil?" Al asks worriedly looking around.

"Death Walkers Al, they can't die, we can't kill them, nothing can. They're unstoppable, we're screwed." Now he get's why the old man was so terrified, he's right, they're doomed.

But Alfred frowns, "That doesn't make sense, if they can't be stopped, how'd that one disappear when Arthur howled?"

Neither Gilbert or Matthew have an answer, both just as baffled by that, but thankful for it none the less.

' _Al!_ ' Arthur suddenly shouts loud enough to make Alfred's head hurt.

He looks up, but the wolf's gaze is fixed staring out passed the camp. Turning to follow his line of sight, Al's mouth drops open and he stares.

A black cloud of shifting forms is racing across the sand towards them, dozens of Death Walkers.

Distractedly, they hear the old man drop to his knees, pleading, "Gods, Oh _Gods_ have mercy..."

A wall of death is hurtling towards them, and there's nothing any of them can do.

Or at least, any _human_ can do.

Acting on instinct, Alfred turns to Arthur.

"Artie help us! What do we do?!"

As the black cloud nears, Arthur lifts his head and let's out another earsplitting howl, but this one sounds much more etherial, and Al watches as the wolf's eyes glow with power. In an instant a powerful wind is whipped up around him, and suddenly they're all engulfed in a sandstorm.

"What the _hell_ have you done!?" Gil cries, because now they can't see the enemy, but Arthur ignores him, looking down to Al instead.

' _They are poisoned death. A wolf's howl is a symbol of our strength, of our life. Death fears life. So long as my storm rages, they will not be able to get to us._ '

Carefully Arthur leads the children down and nudges them to hide in one of the tents as he makes his way over to the trio.

As he comes over, Al tries to figure out what he means, passing on his words to the other two. Not for the first time, Al realises how glad he is that Mattie is such a bookworm.

"Death fears life! Of course, that's it!"

Without any explanation, Matt pulls Al's sword from his hip, turning the blade over in his hands as he nods to himself.

"This should work."

Quickly, he kneels and sets the blade down perpendicular to himself, holding his hands out above it's middle, then separates them, as if he were running his hands along the length, stopping as he reaches the ends. Closing his eyes he begins an enchantment.

Al doesn't understand a word of it, he was never really any good at learning the language of magic anyway, but Gil seems to have an idea of what he's doing, though he doesn't seem pleased.

"Matt what are you doing?" He cries sounding alarmed, "That's a _soul binding_ spell!"

That doesn't sound good, but before Al can try to stop him, Mattie is already done.

"It's fine..." he whispers tiredly, making no attempt to get back up.

"Fine?!" Gil looks ready to explode, "Do you have any _idea_ how dangerous that was? Remove the enchantment. _Now_. Before it completely drains you." His eyes flash warningly, but Matthew knows him too well to be cowed by the threat.

"It's _fine,_ " he repeats more forcefully this time, "I adapted the spell, look." He weakly gestures to the sword, now slowly starting to glow a bright white. "That's not from tying it to my soul, it's resonating with the soul energy of the storm. _Arthur's_ soul energy."

Confused, Al looks between the wolf and his twin, hoping someone will explain.

Lowering his head to sniff the blade, Arthur tilts his head curiously.

' _This, it has my scent now..._ '

Smiling tiredly, Matt waves for Al to pick up the sword. Cautiously, he does.

The instant Al's fingers brush the hilt, he feels an electric tingling running up his arm. It's an odd sensation, but not unpleasant, and definitely familiar; it feels just like his bond with Arthur.

While Al is still trying to wrap his head around all this, Gil steps forward, eyes glowing, to examine the sword as it seems to respond to Al's hold.

"This..." he whispers, red eyes widening as he looks to Matthew in clear surprise, "This is a _Soul Reaver._ Matt... how in the _world_ did you know the spell for this?"

"I didn't... just, guess work from the books I'd read on them..."

Both Gil and Al stare at the tired blonde. The spell obviously took it's toll on him, something of this calibre was bound to be draining on even the most skilled of mages, and Matthew pulled it off on the fly...

"The sword..." he mumbles, swaying slightly where he sits as he looks up at Al, "It's bound to Arthur's soul... but... since you and he are bonded... you can use it..."

Without warning Matt slumps forward, and Gil hurries to catch him.

"Passed out. No surprise." Gil sighs as he gently picks the sleeping teen up and turns to Al. With a determined nod, all talk is ended.

Alfred has the sword, the Soul Reaver, and only he can use it. It's up to him now.

But he's not alone.

Straightening his back, he raises his sword, and a huff of warm breath at his ear and soft fur against his side is all the encouragement he needs to walk out and meet the Death Walkers waiting for them.

* * *

In a darkened hall, the red eyed man grins wide as he snaps closed another book, watching the lifeless form of the chained woman before him.

His power is growing...

* * *

 **Authors notes:** This chapter was getting a bit too long so had to cut it there, apologies for the cliffhanger, but things are about to get interesting in a rather... _unexpected_ way... Well kinda unexpected, hopefully. I've been obscurely hinting at it these last few chapters...

On the plus side, that does mean I have the next chapter written, just need to edit it. So expect that up within the week.

But Alfred's precious sword just got an upgrade, and Matthew is showing his skill once again, poor Gil is getting a bit left out... and Arthur has been puttering around in the background.

And it seems I can't decide if there's going to be more background PruHun or PruCan in this... god damn it Gil pick _one!_

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	33. Light Bound

Stepping through the wall of raging sand, the knight and wolf come face to face with...

Nothing...

The black cloud of the Death Walkers is nowhere to be seen.

Confused Al looks around, but all he sees is wide open sands and the spiralling storm concealing the camp behind them.

He thinks maybe they've gone, but realises that's just wishful thinking when Arthur suddenly pulls him to the side. He only just sees a shadow pass where he was standing, before he's lifted up by the back of his tunic as Arthur hurries to carry him away from the storm. But he understands, he knows what Arthur is doing, their bond tells him of the wolf's intentions.

This close to the protection of the sandstorm, the Death Walkers can't seem to properly materialise. They'll have to get further away to be able to see them coming.

It's been a while since it's just been him and Arthur, and yet, fighting with the wolf by his side is somehow even easier than before. Their bond is stronger now than it was back in the Ivory Expanse —when they went hunting the Aigiddyrn— perhaps even more than when they took on all those Acreta.

Alfred doesn't have to use words, not even with his mind to tell Arthur what he wants to do.

It's almost as if it's by instinct.

A sense of an idea is all it takes for Arthur to suddenly halt, dropping down to lie flat in the sand. In the same moment he releases his hold on Al, and the blonde knight twists around before his feet even hit the ground. In an instant he's using the momentum to push forward and climb up onto Arthur's back. His feet find their place just behind the wolf's shoulders and his left hand buries itself in the back of Arthur's neck, grasping tightly onto his fur, sword held out to his right. The exact moment he's in position, Arthur is kicking off the ground, jumping up and throwing himself forward into a fast paced run. The whole process happens in a matter of seconds, without a single word needing to be said between them.

Like this, they're faster. Stronger.

This time, Alfred doesn't have any trouble finding the rhythm, he moves as Arthur does. This time, he doesn't feel like he might be thrown off if he's not careful, even without a saddle, he doesn't worry about keeping balance with the bounce of Arthur's speedy legs. No, this time, they're perfectly in sync.

Still without a single word said, he switches the hold on his sword, raising it to just the right angle, and leans into the sudden left turn. A Death Walker appears inches from his side and he cut's through it, blade humming with power as the wispy shadow of its body is sliced in two. Rather than disappear or drop to the ground like Al expects, the shadow wraps around the sword like smoke as they run, before being absorbed into it. Looking over his shoulder, Al's eyes widen as he sees a white glow where the Death Walker had been. He only catches a glimpse before it vanishes.

As Arthur runs and a few more appear only to be cut down, something occurs to Al. The Death Walkers don't seem to be able to keep up, Arthur is simply too quick for them. It's then that he realises why he's only had to face one at a time. How Arthur always turns just before one can strike. The Death Walkers must be scattered about, simply waiting for them to get close enough to attack, and Arthur is fast enough to react before they can.

But realising this makes him overconfident.

When Arthur suddenly turns again, he expects the same as before, one to appear at his right just in time for him to kill. What he, nor Arthur expect is for another to be to the left, and as Arthur turns, he ends up running straight for it. He's going too fast to stop or avoid it, and Al can't reach it in time to kill it, not from where he is.

Without even thinking, Al pushes himself up and throws his body over Arthur's head. With his sword still wrapped in shadows from killing the one on their right, he brings it forward and down, aiming for this one. It's smaller than the others, probably the reason they didn't see it coming. He plunges his sword through it's small chest, and the shadows are dragged forward with it, wrapping around the blade. But even as the shadows are drawn away, the light form remains, and he crashes into it, or rather, through it.

His body impacts the sand with a heavy thump, his sword falling free from his loose grasp.

'Al!' Arthur calls in alarm as he skids to a halt above him, the light form having disappeared the moment Al passed through it.

' _Al, Alfred!_ ' Carefully he uses his teeth to tug the blonde to roll over.

' _No no no nononono! Al wake up!_ ' Panic floods him as the knight lies motionless on the ground, images of blood soaked snow flashing through his mind.

' _Not again, please no... not again..._ ' He begs as he presses his nose to Al's cheek.

It's only when Arthur notices the slight rise and fall of the teen's chest does he give a shaky sigh of relief, collapsing in the sand beside him.

He can't sense anymore of those creatures around, the foul presence of the twisted, poisonous death is gone, but that does nothing to put him at ease as Alfred isn't waking up. Protectively he moves closer, ever so gently laying his head on Al's chest and listens to him breathing.

' _Breathing is good,_ ' he reminds himself, ' _so long as there is breath, there is life._ '

He let's his head rise and fall with the knight, switching his focus to the gentle but steady thump of his heartbeat. Another sign of life.

Closing his eyes, Arthur blocks everything else out. He forgets about the sandstorm he's still maintaining, with neither the energy or the will to end it properly, he let's it go freely. He forces himself to forget about the desert, or any of the other creatures out here that might attack them, about the red snow and screams of death that haunt his past, about everything.

All he want's to do, is lie here. All he wants, is for his pack mate to be okay.

* * *

 _I've been here before..._

Is the first thought Al has when he comes to in... wherever this place is. He's in an endless white void, like last time. But when was that? He had no memory of this place until he was back, feeling this sense of lack of reality, but knowing he's not dreaming.

He knows it this time, doesn't just think it. But _how_ does he know that?

He blinks, just like before he feels a presence and spins around.

There, floating in the nothingness of a wavy form, a distortion in the... _substance_ —it's all he can thing to call what this place is made of— of the world around him.

But this time, he's not alone. How it the world he never noticed the ball of light hovering next to him, he's not sure. But it's there, and it's not like the distortion, this is more solid, more real, if that even makes sense. He get's the feeling it's not meant to, nothing here is.

The distortion ripples, and the ball of light suddenly shines bright, far too bright and fast for what he thinks should be possible. But it's over just as quick, and in it's place is a bluish tinted, transparent girl.

It's with an odd sense of recollection, as if he were mentally reliving the moment he was looking down at her dead body, that he knows who this girl is.

"Olefia..." He whispers, and the girl turns to him.

She blinks up at him for a moment, then smiles.

"Thank you."

And then, she's gone, faded away to become past of... this place. But the echo remains. And not just hers, but dozens of other indistinguishable voices whisper it to him all the same.

He spins around trying to find there source, but he knows he'll never find it. When he turns back around, the distortion seems to be shimmering, and he get's the strangest feeling it's smiling at him.

"Who are you?"

 ** _...I am but one..._**

Al frowns, "One? One of what?"

 ** _...One of many..._**

Great, it's talking in riddles.

Far in the distance, he can hear chuckling. But unlike all the other voices he's heard here, this one is distinctly female, and he gets the odd feeling he should know it.

"Who's there?"

The chuckle comes again, and through the void a figure appears, walking towards him. For a moment Alfred feels jealous, because no matter how much he's tried walking, he's never seemed to make much progress anywhere. But he forgets it as soon as it comes, because now he's left staring up at the figure before him. As he draws his eyes up, he notices their bare feet and strangely tattered clothes —as if multiple holes have been burnt into then, leaving large sections charred— thin strips of what was no doubt a beautiful ice blue and silver dress are all that's left to cover her decency. The woman, with long blonde hair flowing down her back and framing her face, and deep violet eyes that somehow remind him of Mattie, is floating several inches above the nonexistent ground.

In the back of Alfred's mind, a name echoes as she smiles down at him.

"Look at you," Her voice is choked with emotion, eyes shimmering with unshed tears, "My _son_. How much you've grown."

Like a mirror being shattered, understanding dawns on Alfred, and that name echoes so loudly it demands to be voiced.

"M-Mom..?"

With gentle, shaking hands she reaches out to cup is face, "My _dear_ Alfred."

He's so shocked he doesn't know what to say as she pulls him forward into her chest and presses her face into the top of his head, crying as she buries her face in his hair.

He's completely lost, a million questions are rocketing through his mind, but he doesn't know where to begin. So it's not really of his volition when he asks, "Am I dead?"

It's a logical assumption; he did touch a Death Walker, and his mother has been dead for nineteen years.

He's quite surprised then, when she only laughs and pulls away, but keeps her hands on his shoulders as he looks down at him.

"No, no your not dead. Your _Spirit Walking_ dear."

"Spirit... Walking?"

"Yes, you've awoken the gift."

"Wha- wait, gift? I thought the _Domino bestia_ was my gift... isn't it?"

" _Ooh_..." She breathes, eyes widening as if she just realised something. "You... don't know, do you?"

"Know what?" Alfred is now very confused.

"But… Jacob should've… so _why_..?" She mumbles, frowning in confusion.

"Jacob?" Al blinks in recognition at the name but is still completely lost, "You mean Dad?"

Rather than answer him, she turns to look at the distortion.

"Is the Snake not to be severed? The key is here, why keep the lock hidden?" She asks cryptically.

 ** _...The snake coils... ...yet many keys fit many locks..._**

An eerie softness fills the voice as it floats through the air and makes all of Alfred's hair stand on end as a shiver runs down his back.

Beside him, his mother's frown deepens, glaring at the distortion. The look seems out of place on her previously gentle features.

"Are you conceding to him?" She demands.

The distortion shifts and twists around itself violently, as if angered by the accusation and the voice roars.

 **Never!**

Al's head rings with more pain than when Arthur shouts, but his mom seems unaffected by it. The form calms, returning to a gentle swirling before it speaks again.

 ** _...A path carved by ages... ...strengthens with time..._**

This time, his mother seems satisfied with the answer.

"Time, yes. But how much longer can we wait?"

 ** _...soon..._**

The voice breathes.

 ** _...Soon... ...All will come to pass, as it is meant to be..._**

His Mom nods, before turning quickly back to him.

"Alfie dear, there is not much time left, so listen closely." She cups his face again and smiles sadly down at him, "Go to the Northern Sea that meets the edge of Nankeke's Wilderness. There, you'll find a man and two sisters who know the truth. Show the man the light of your heart, and he will show you his." She strokes her thumbs across his cheeks as her smile becomes more pained but happier, "Your power is growing, but so is his. The man of the north, he will teach you. You _must_ become stronger, you, _and_ your brother."

Alfred wants to ask what she means, what _any_ of all this means, but the world around him seems to be fading away into darkness. He feels his mothers hands leave him and her voice is but a faint whisper in the distance.

"I love you. Live free, my dear sweethearts."

And then it all goes black...

* * *

 **Authors notes:** Aah, Alfred. More and more mysteries just seem to form around you, don't they?

So bit of an explanation, 'cause Al isn't exactly able to put two and two together all the time. Alfred is _Spirit Walking_ here. Why? Two reasons; **1-** It's another gift he unwittingly awoke when the Viper 'killed him', and **2-** Because he touched the Death Walker. Which is another thing I should explain.

Death Walkers, or Pavicso are a warped spirit of the dead. Normally, it would take years for a regular trapped spirit to become a Death Walker, and only those that have a grudge preventing them from moving on. But, as you may have noticed, these particular ones only died a short while ago...

By using a Soul Reaver on a Pavicso, the dark and twisted part of the spirit, or the 'poison' as Arthur calls it, is removed. Normally, this would be the grudge, allowing it to move on. Basically by touching it in the moment of ascension, Al accidentally activated his Spirit Walking power and went with it.

Hope that clear things up.

As for his mother, well… that's another matter entirely…

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	34. Red eyed secret

Not for the first time in his life, Gilbert is seriously beginning to question what he's doing. Looking at it objectively, this is clearly madness.

Here he is, an ex-military Commander on the run with the Capital of Talmeré's Master Book Keeper and his exiled, now no doubt fugitive, twin brother with a twice damned wolf that seems to have it in for him. And what does this merry band of misfits plan to do? Take down a secret group that has manipulated its way into power and supposedly has plans to create a new God. _And_ their only allies in all this is a tortured half demoness who refuses the crown she won, and a lost Prince turned returned miracle King.

Yeah, it sounds ridiculous to him too.

Sitting on a hard rock ledge serving as a makeshift bench in this tiny tent, he heaves a heavy sigh. At his feet, Matthew is still sleeping soundly, wrapped in layers of warm furs and woven blankets given to him by the kind family who's tent they're currently occupying. Across from Matt, a young boy is failing to hide is staring. If this was any other time, Gil might have made an effort to smile and reassure the child and his worried mother. But right now, he's too busy with his own concerns to do the old 'red eyes are awesome' song and dance.

Where does he even begin?

For starters there's Matt… He'll admit he's pissed at him, using so much magic at once for such a dangerous spell was reckless in the extreme, and here he thought Al was the one he needed to keep under control… But, passed his anger, he's worried, maybe for more reasons than even he is willing to let himself admit. At least he can't see any signs of lasting damage, so he should make a full recovery with enough rest.

But then, there's Al, and that damned hero complex of his. Going off on his own, even if he is with the stupid wolf. They both know he's the more experienced _and_ skilled fighter of the two… Ahh, but then it all loops back around to Matt, altering that sword so only Al could use it… Damn pair of kids, since when was he some sort of baby sitter for these two and their recklessness?

And if all that wasn't bad enough, he also has to deal with the _not at all_ concealed hostility wolfy keeps giving him. Seriously, what did he do to piss it off so badly? So he _temporarily_ blinded it —him, whatever— _he_ bit _him_ , nearly took his arm off too, so in Gil's book they should be even.

He sighs again, running a hand through his hair and immediately scrunches up his face in disgust at the feeling, remembering again how much he needs a bath, they all do. Not that there'll be much chance of that until they reach the Wilderness —what with water being such a scarce resource out here— and even then, that's not something that is advised, Gods know what they'll have to deal with out there.

Just as he begins to feel the endless weariness of their mission, a caw from the corner of the room draws his attention, and he feels himself smile instantly in response.

"Come here then."

Gilbird, his trusty companion on all his secret missions for the rebellion these past two years, flaps his wings as he half walks half hops across the ground to Gil's feet. Reaching down, Gilbert grins as he strokes the eagles head and chin, receiving a happy chirp for the attention.

He remembers when he first found the bird. He was leading his men back from a patrol when they spotted an unusual clearing. Whole trees had been flattened and uprooted, telltale signs of an Uphairx pack mating ground. While surveying the damage to get a read on how many Uphairx might be in the vicinity, he found him. A tiny, near bald, half dead chick, still inside part of it's egg, in the tattered remains of it's nest. The tree it had been hatched in, crushed under the weight of the Uphairx males sparring. Like this, there was no chance the parents would return to a destroyed nest, the chick was doomed to a slow death. He remembers how his men had laughed when he, with more care than they had ever seen him demonstrate before, carefully scooped the poor chick up, picking off pieces of eggshell and twigs, before delicately wrapping it in some loose cloth and tucking the dying thing in under the top of his chest plate. They wondered if their Commander was going soft, after all, why try to save something that is clearly meant to die? But what was he supposed to do? He couldn't just walk away and leave it, contrary to the image he carefully maintains in front of his men, or court, or anyone, he's not heartless.

He knew it's chances of survival were slim at best, but that didn't stop him from rushing his men back, or dismissing them early so he could hurry back to his chambers and set it up in a nice, warm bed of scrap cloth and furs. Or from cornering the carrier pigeon keeper in the lower town to demand his help —because he couldn't trust the palace bird keeper to stay quiet— or from shirking as much of his duties as possible for the next two weeks to mother the chick around the clock until it was strong enough that he was sure it wasn't going to die. After that, he took to secretly carrying the chick around with him when ever he had to leave his home, no matter if it was for work or simply to get out for a bit, the chick was always with him. Then, after around three weeks, when the chick was finally able to start walking around by itself, and the white down was beginning to be replaced with the darker colour of it's developing plumage, he finally allowed himself to name it. The bird keeper had told him it's sex, so there was really only one thing to name it.

Gilbird.

He gives a lopsided grin at the memory. Everyone doubted him, doubted the chicks chances of survival, but look at him now. Most would use words like _majestic_ or _powerful_ to describe such a creature, but him? Gilbert only has one word in mind to describe his beloved partner in crime.

 _Awesome._

Suddenly, without any sort of warning, the wind outside that is constantly spiralling around them to maintain the protection of the sandstorm, breaks. Wild winds blast through the tent flaps, covering the inside in a layer of sand, and then, it all goes quiet and still.

Instantly this sets of alarm bells in Gilbert's head. He's seen wolfy stop a blizzard before, and it was much calmer than that, a gentle end. But this was fast and clearly uncontrolled.

Without waiting a second more, he jumps to his feet, ordering the family to stay inside and to please keep an eye on Matt, then he's dashing out the tent.

As he jogs past another, looking south for any incoming danger, a caw is given as wings pass over his head and up into the air. Above him Gilbird soars high, scanning the area just like his partner on the ground.

It only takes Gil a few moments to reach the end of the camp. There, he halts and takes a breath to calm himself, focusing his magic into his eyes and uses the old spell he's best at. Eyes aglow, he sends his sight forward, rushing across the open dunes, it doesn't take him long to spot the large paw prints leading off, far away from the camp. He frowns, manoeuvring his sight to follow the trail, but it extends off past the limit of what he can see, still, he follows it as much as he can, the image growing fuzzy and unfocused the further he pushes himself, until he's forced to stop. His eyes still glow as he ends the spell, and he is left momentarily blind as he waits for his sight to snap back to himself. When his sight does return, it's just as grainy and out of focus as he had pushed it to be, leaving him standing still as he frowns out at the desert, waiting for his eyes to recover.

They do, slowly but surely, clarity returns, but not quite as it was.

It's the down side to such a spell, he knows. With each time he pushes his sight beyond his body, it takes just that little bit longer to snap back, for his vision to return. And each time it does, it's a little bit less focused, a little bit more blurred, and he knows with a sinking certainty, just as he had been told all those years ago when he first accidentally activated his inherited gift, he's slowly going blind. He had been warned then, of the dangers of over using his gift.

 _"The eyes of a Seer are a powerful thing Gilbert, but you must be careful, for they are also delicate and are easily damaged. Do not make the same mistake as your mother."_

He frowns, acutely aware of the extra blur to his peripheral vision. Up until then, he had never been given a straight answer as to how and why his mother was blind. Now, it's all too clear to him… especially after…

 _"_ ** _…Your rage will_ blind _you…_** _"_

He shakes his head to clear it and redirects his gaze to the night sky.

Above him Gilbird caws as he too has spotted the paw prints and is circling, signalling to Gil that he's found the way to go. Nodding to the bird he springs into a light jog, following Gilbird's direction and what he had seen until he finds the prints. Thankfully he doesn't have to check if they're fresh so he can focus on keeping pace as he follows the trail. With all the twists and turns the trail makes, he's once again glad for Gilbird's aid as he helps keep the albino on the right track.

It takes some time —in which Gil wishes he'd thought to grab a horse and not just run out, but no point complaining now— but eventually he spots the sight of a mass of white fur on the horizon. Slowing his pace, he frowns at the sight, tempted to use his advanced gaze again, but knows better than to risk it, and places his hand over the hilt of his sword. He halts a short distance away, making sure to be down wind of the shape ahead as he squints at the white mass. Above him Gilbird silently circles over the shape twice before looping back and coming down to perch on Gilbert's shoulder guard. He sighs in relief, but keeps his hand on his sword, just in case as he walks over. Two circles and landing on his shoulder; the signal for friendly, no danger.

There, lying in the sand is the wolf, and under him is…

Eyes widening he picks up his pace as he sees it's Al, lying motionless under the wolf. He knows he shouldn't jump to conclusions, but he can't exactly say he trusts the wolf. Luckily, his fear is unfounded as he sees no sign of blood on either of them, but that only raises the question of why are they lying out here?

"Hey." He calls over, more to Al than the wolf, but, much to his dismay, it's the latter that jerks at the response.

The wolf's head snaps up from Al's body at the sound, swivelling around to stare at Gil, ears back and already growling. Gilbert would sigh at this, if it weren't for the fact he could have sworn, for a split second, he saw fear flash across those green eyes before it was hidden behind anger. So rather than snap back at the wolf for growling at him like he normally would, Gil's left there in slight confusion, even as Arthur rises up to his full height to tower over him, teeth bared.

In this moment of bewilderment, Gilbert takes in the situation in a slightly different light.

He had never really cared to look, not wanting to get into another unnecessary fight with the wolf to really think about it, but now that he's actually looking, he sees this for what it really is. The way the wolf shifts back isn't _just_ about aggression, no… It's _defensive_ , _he's_ defensive…

Gil blinks. The way the wolf moves, the way it shifts, it's stance, he's seen it a hundred times over, so how in the _world_ did he never notice before now…

Memories of years of patrols and hunts flash across his mind, in caves and burrows, large and small, every one at the end of his sword, like a composite of scenes layering on top of each other to scream a single message at him. It's the _**one**_ thing he _always_ warned the young knights about…

When Arthur growls lowly again, Gil sighs calmly, then smiles, probably the first true smile he's ever directed at the wolf. _This_ , is something he knows how to deal with.

"Relax will you? I'm not going to do anything, I just want to know if the kid's okay."

He waits patiently, knowing that Arthur can understand him now, and when the wolf stops growling, he nods and gestures a hand to the sleeping blonde.

"Can I?"

Gilbert considers it a personal victory when Arthur, after a moment of deliberation, finally steps back and allows Gil to reach Al's side.

He nods again, then slowly walks over to crouch by the knight, quickly checking him over. He frowns slightly when he can't find anything wrong, but nor can he seem to rouse Alfred. Arthur hovers close by, and when he sees that Gil is also unable to wake the teen, he surprises the red eyed man once again by letting out a tiny whimper as he nuzzles Alfred's face.

If things weren't clear to Gil before, this display proves it, though what this'll mean for the future is unknown.

"Let's get him back."

Gilbird takes to the air once more as Gil carefully slips his arms under Al's knees and shoulders, lifting him up to carry back to camp.

When they return, Gil lays Al beside his brother, while Arthur practically has his head poking through the tent flap, green eyes fixed worriedly on the sleeping blonde.

If Gilbert thought he was a babysitter before, then this confirms it.

Still, as he looks over the the worried wolf, he finds his own eyes trailing back to the violet eyed blonde, not realising he's wearing the exact same look. In that moment, both his and the wolf's minds are connected with the same, pleading wish.

 _'Please, be alright.'_

X

 **Authors notes:** Look at that, a whole chapter just for Gilbert, he's waited long enough for one. Though, to be honest, the reason I've been avoiding it is 'cause Gil knows more than he's letting on. And he's hiding things from the group, like the fact that he's slowly going blind…

On the note of Gil needing more love, I've done more art again, so check out my tumblr for that if you feel so inclined.

And once again I feel the need to thank all my wonderful reviewers, you really have no idea what it means to me, even the smallest of reviews gives me that boost to make it through the rest of the day. So again, **_thank you_**.

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	35. To the Wilderness

Arthur squints grumpily up at the morning rays of light from the rising sun. He hadn't slept at all last night, how could he? With Alfred unconscious _again_ , and the ever present risk of being attacked from unknown dangers, he couldn't risk sleep. Though Arthur is no stranger to little sleep, he still finds the inevitable morning irritating.

Groaning at the stiffness in his legs, he slowly rises from his place atop the highest point of the rocks, and makes his way back down to the tent where the others are. The few humans that are up still give him a wide birth, which he appreciates, but before he can make it to the tent, a small boy comes charging out of it. Without an ounce of fear, the child throws himself at Arthur's legs, giving the wolf a tight hug.

Surprised, Arthur halts, looking down at the child. The little thing barely reaches half way to his elbow, and it's stubby arms can only just wrap around his strong foreleg, his paw alone is larger than its tiny body.

He jerks his leg free, causing the child to stumble back, looking up in confusion. Arthur is in no mood to indulge pups today.

He makes his point perfectly clear by stomping his paw beside it with enough force to kick up the sand, and lowering his head towards the boy, baring his teeth with a deep growl rumbling in his throat.

Clearly frightened by the change in attitude, the boy bursts into tears and runs back into the tent, wailing for his mother. The sound irritates Arthur more than the hug did, and he berates himself for not simply pushing the pup away.

Still, the pup is not his concern.

The tug of another consciousness in his bond is why he's moved from his self appointed post; Alfred is awake.

He lies down at the tent to poke his head beneath the entrance flap and look inside. Sure enough, Al is sitting up by the fire. The others are also there —including the still weeping boy in his mother's arms, not that Arthur cares— and going by the smells, they're eating something from the bowls in their hands. The smell of food causes Arthur's stomach to rumble, reminding him that it's been a while since he's had a decent meal; small kills on the road do little to satisfy the ravenous hunger of a wolf.

To distract himself, he roves his eyes across the group.

The child has calmed down somewhat, thanks to his mothers gentle hushing, while Alfred apologises for the scare, and Arthur denies the pang of guilt he feels for being the cause of it. The three others are sitting with those clothes they insist on wearing only covering their loins, leaving their legs and chest free from restriction. Even though Alfred's explained it to him before, Arthur still doesn't get the point of clothes, if that saddle Al made him wear is anything to go by, then they're terribly uncomfortable.

He's seen Alfred naked before, but the other two have been far more shy about being 'exposed' —as they call it— around him, so naturally, he's curious.

Seeing them now, Arthur notices how much Al's skin has darkened since coming to this desert, the contrast obvious when compared to the far lighter skin of Gilbert. Looking at Matthew, Arthur thinks Al might be a few shades darker, but his brother hasn't changed much, having already been darker than Al when he met him.

Flicking his eyes between the brothers, Arthur picks out the differences. Al's skin is marred with scars —a warrior— but Matthew only has one visible, a long thin scar running across his right hip, any others are too small or faded to be seen from this far. And between them is Gil, his skin is just as scarred as Al's, but as he shifts Arthur spots one of intrigue; a jagged patch of pink skin just below his left shoulder, matches a similar scar a few inches down on his back, barely missing his spine.

Arthur knows that a set of scars like that is only caused by a wound that runs all the way through. Instinctively, he dips his head at the sight, for only the strongest can survive such injuries, and only the strongest are leaders.

Seeing this, now Arthur understands why Al obeys Gilbert; he is stronger. Which makes Matthew the lowest of their ranks (he doesn't even consider the bird).

He scans his eyes over the three again, affirming his evaluation, and relaxes a little now that he knows his true standing in the pack.

Jolting his head up, Arthur blinks at his own thoughts.

Since when did he consider the other two as part of his pack?

Or perhaps it's more right to ask when did they accept _him_ as part of _theirs?_

Deciding he really doesn't want to dwell on such thoughts now, he tunes in on their conversation. He'd gotten so used to daydreaming when they were all talking, he's still getting used to the fact that he can now make sense of all the noise around him again, thanks to the constant, but small supply of Alfred's magic.

His ears prick and narrow in on the sound of the knights voice, "…ow it sounds weird, but I _swear_ it was real."

"I'm not saying that it wasn't, but… Al, we never met our mother, we have no idea what she really looked like, Dad never liked to talk about her, remember? So how can you be absolutely certain it was her? What's to say it wasn't someone else posing as her?"

Alfred looks down, tilting the bowl in his hands and watching the liquid swirl before answering, "I just know. You didn't see her Mattie, if you did, you'd know. It was _her._ "

The brothers fall silent beside each other, and Arthur thinks that's the end of whatever they were talking about, that is until Gilbert speaks up, "It's possible."

All eyes fall to the albino who stares back at Al with burning seriousness.

"When I was a kid, my father would take me to this camp out in the western forest for training. But he was always busy with something or other, so your Dad was the one who trained me most often." He frowns as he looks back into his memories, "They were good friends for as long as I can remember, but they weren't the only ones there. I can't say I remember seeing your mother at the camp, but I did meet her, only once, before you two were born." His gaze refocuses on Al, certainty in his eyes, "Your description is _exactly_ how I remember her, even if her belly _was_ bloated with the both of you. And," he adds, "if she's right, then that's all the more reason to go to the Wilderness. We need all the allies we can get."

From behind them, Arthur's eyes narrow at the back of Gil's head. Something about what he just said… Arthur's not sure why, but, Gilbert's lying… no, not lying, more… he's not telling the truth.

His tail flicks against the sand in annoyance as he glares at the silvery haired man. Something about Gilbert has been bothering him since they first met, and now, the more he listens to the man talk, the more sure of it he becomes.

But just as Arthur is about to call out to Al, the knight's voice reaches him first, "So you believe me?"

He looks so hopeful as he stares pleadingly over at Gil, that Arthur stops. And when the man nods, Arthur realises just how much Al values the man's word. He frowns to himself, ears dropping as he thinks. Even though his instincts are screaming at him not to trust the albino, Alfred respects the elder too much for Arthur to challenge the man. The many scars of bites from his kin tingle across his skin as a reminder of what happens when he challenges the Alpha.

He shifts about uncomfortably where he lies, and suddenly finds he can't keep his glare up. His eyes flick up and down for a moment as he wrestles with his instincts, before they settle firmly on the sand between his paws.

The lesson that was beaten into him years ago rings hard in his mind; you must **_obey_**.

* * *

It's a harsh four day trek from the camp across barren rock to the edge of The Mighty Wilderness of Nankeke. Unlike crossing between the desert Kingdoms, the edge of the Wilderness is very much apparent.

A wall of great Black Wood trees tower before the group. The transition between sand pitted rocks and the ominous dark forest is striking. It's as if someone had simply drawn a line in the land and stitched the two areas together along it. This becomes even more apparent as they look up to the dark gnarled branches above, all of them suddenly twisting upward as if blocked by an invisible wall.

Even standing this close, they can all feel the forest exerting as sort of… _pressure_ seeping through the barrier.

Arthur watches curiously as the others tense and seem weary of approaching the woods, growing more and more anxious the closer they get. And worse still, the beasts they ride on become increasingly difficult to control, forcing the three to dismount and walk, until the horses outright refused to go any further. With no other option, they removed what supplies they could carry, and then let the animals go, watching as they bolted away. Even that bird the albino keeps squawks annoyingly from the man's shoulder as he tries to calm it.

But, while the others are all afraid, Arthur is inexplicably drawn to it. This pressure, the heaviness in the air, he knows it well.

It feels like _home_.

He can feel the eyes of the others on him as he walks between them to stand right in front of the invisible barrier. Unlike the one back in the desert, he can sense this one.

"Matt?" He hears Gil ask.

"Eh? Oh, uh, r-right…"

He turns to watch the twin, who he's noticed tends to keep his distance from him, slowly approach the barrier, veering as he does to be closer and closer to Arthur, until the teen is practically rubbing up against his leg. Looking over to his right, he cocks his head as he sees Al hovering close to his haunches, even Gilbert can't hide his unease, though he at least doesn't cling to Arthur's side.

He turns back to Matt in time to see the blonde pulling out a familiar book, nervously flipping through its pages before seeming to settle on one. From this close, Arthur can see what he's looking at, but the symbols are meaningless to him, but imagines they must be important somehow.

"What's that for?" Al asks, peering round at his twin.

"This Borderline is different from the others." Gil answers as Matt remains focused on the book. "The ones around the Wilderness are specifically designed to let nothing pass through, just look at the trees." They both frown up at the twisted branches before Gil continues, "This one, is basically and invisible, impenetrable wall."

"So… how do we get through?"

At that, Gilbert grins, "We make a door."

After a moment of standing there, Matthew moves to set the book down on the ground before the barrier, then raises his hands out and begins chanting.

Arthur is fascinated as the symbols in the book start to glow gold, and the barrier also becomes a visibly golden shimmering wall. The fur on his leg tingles as he feels the powerful magic coming from the teen beside him. This close, he can fully sense its nature; strong —though not as strong as his— and highly controlled, a stark contrast to the wild and barely managed magic of Alfred. He can feel the way Matt shapes it, tightly forging it into a point to pierce the wall.

They watch as a white line is cut down the now solid golden light of the barrier, only for it to close up behind itself a moment after appearing. Matthew tries again, concentrating harder, but no matter how hard he tries, the cut seals up again each time.

He sighs, dropping his arms and stopping. "I don't get it."

"What's wrong?" Al asks, childishly ducking under Arthur's belly to reach his twin, rather than simply going around.

"I'm not sure," Matt frowns, scratching the back of his head, "The spell should have no problem working, but the barrier seems to be self healing… almost as if…" he shifts from foot to foot, warily looking up at the once again invisible barrier, "It's _alive_ …"

The brothers both take an unconscious step back into Arthur at that, leaving Gil as the only one to stand his ground.

"Well we have to get through. Three of the Order's elite members are hiding somewhere in here, plus who ever your mother said we need to find."

"I know but…" Matthew mumbles, trailing off.

Arthur looks between the three, seeing various levels of uncertainty and fear written on their faces as plain as day.

' _Al,_ ' he nudges the blonde with his muzzle to get the teens attention, ' _I have an idea._ '

"You do?"

He nods, tipping his head towards the barrier, ' _Open the crack again, and I'll wedge it open._ '

"Oh!" Al's eyes alight with understanding and he immediately passes the message on.

Moving forward once more, Matthew attempts to make an opening, a single white line a few inches long cutting down the glowing wall. Arthur watches carefully, waiting for the right moment…

There!

Just as the barrier starts to close up again, his eyes glow as he stomps his right paw forward; a thin pillar of ice instantly rises up to pierce through the gap. Just like he planned, the ice acts as a block, holding the gap open. With a gentle nudge of his head, he signals Matt to stop, taking over as he concentrates on expanding the ice in the gap, pushing it open.

The task proves a bit tricky and difficult, leaving Arthur panting from the exertion —it's been a while since he's had to pinpoint control his ice like this— but he manages it in the end.

The three humans are left staring up at a solid circle-ish shaped block of ice as wide as the wolf, seemingly only held up by the thin pillar at and angle that physics should deem impossible to maintain. Only the slight golden shimmer around the ice block is left to remind them that it's the barrier holding the ice in place.

" _Okay…_ " Al says slowly, "Now what?"

Arthur won't admit it, but he didn't think that far ahead, he just thought he could hold it open.

But luckily for him, Gilbert seems to have an idea as he smirks and, much to Arthur's surprise, pats him on his side as the man draws his sword.

"We go through it." The man rotates his left wrist, flourishing his sword and making it glow orange. "Get ready."

With that, he steps up to the ice and cuts the little pillar off, removing it from the ice block. Both Al and Matt move to stand behind him, and Arthur get's the idea, shaking off his exhaustion and get's ready to jump.

In one swift, fluid movement, Gilbert pulls his arm back, then plunges it forward, piercing the centre of the ice. Heat radiates out from his Flame Blade and the ice begins to melt from the centre out, creating an opening. He draws his sword back as the ice continues to melt.

"Let's go!"

One by one, they jump through; Gil, Matt, then Al, and finally Arthur just as the ice can no longer support the barrier, cracking under the pressure and the advancing melt.

His paws land in damp soil, a cold wind ruffling his fur as the barrier seals shut behind them.

"We're here."

From somewhere deep inside the dark forest, a distant growl rumbles…

* * *

 **Authors notes:** And we're back to Arthur's perspective. Our dear wolfy needs more spotlight, he _is_ one of the main characters after all.

Still kinda filler, but we gotta bridge the gaps between A and B somewhere, but hey, you get the boys shirtless for a bit, so it's all worth it.

I'm still trying to show that even though Arthur has been with them a while now, and Al's explained most things to him, he still doesn't really get human culture. Because he's a wolf who just so happens to be able to understand a few people, he still very much views things as a wolf, even when that view is very different to the others.

 _Buuut_ , we've finally got to the Great Wilderness, and oooh boy, is stuff gonna go down here.

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	36. Lost in the forest of black

Alfred never thought he'd miss the desert sun, but right about now, he'd willingly throw himself before it, if only to remind himself of what it feels like.

Four days they've been walking through these woods. Four days of perpetual gloom that never seems to get lighter than a night with a full moon. Four days of constantly being on edge, of not being able to tell day from night, of sleeping with one eye open. And as if all that wasn't bad enough, the oppressive atmosphere of the very air they breathe makes every step a struggle. Combine that with the constant feeling of being watched, and the distant but very noticeable sounds of growling —which never seemed to get nearer or farther, no matter how far they traveled— Alfred honestly doesn't know how much longer he can take this.

Perhaps this is why no one comes here. Why many have nicknamed the Wilderness as a place for mad men, it's certainly driving him crazy and they've only just got here!

And he's not the only one.

Al is both surprised and worried by the state of his brother. Gods know how Mattie is still managing to hold it together, but it's pretty clear he's teetering on the edge of a serious mental breakdown. Like a ticking clock, exactly every three minutes he'll turn his head around to stare behind him for five seconds, then turn back around and mutter something under his breath, repeating the process again and again.

Al's tried to help calm him, but nothing he's said or done has had any affect, it's as if his twin doesn't even notice him.

He had hoped that Gilbert, as the battle hardened war hero of their little group, would be able to keep it together, but even he's showing signs of breaking.

Alfred has never known Gil to be anything but perfectly poised, but now, the sure-footed Commander is anything but. Every raised root and low branch seems to trip up or surprise the man, and with every stumble and scratched cheek, Gilbird squawks in equal agitation from the man's shoulder.

The only one who seems unbothered —and perhaps is the very reason they all haven't broken down into a jittery, gibbering mess to be forever lost in these damned woods— is Arthur.

In this dreary world of dark skies and darker trees, the wolf's snow white fur stands out as a beacon of light in an other wise colourless place.

Not for the first time, a slow realisation, like waking up from a dream, drifts over him. It starts in his fingers, slowly creeping to the rest of his hand, then up his arm to finally notify his brain. It's such a slow process that when the message does reach, he has to turn his head to confirm the action with his eyes.

Yup… he's holding onto Arthur's leg again. Like a trance, he watches the steady rhythm of his hand moving back and forth with the movement of Arthur walking.

Forwards, down, pause, back, lift. Forwards, down, pause, back, lift. Forwards, down, pause, back, lift. Forwards, down, pause, back, lift. Forwards, down, pause, back, lift. Forwards, down, pause, back, lift. Forwards, down, pause, back, lift. Forwards, down, pause, back, lift. Forwards, down, pause, back, lift. Forwards, down, pause.

Pause?

Looking away, Alfred finds they're standing in a different part of the woods, not that he recognises one place from any other. He also finds it's a bit lighter than before, odd since…

He looks around more and finds Gilbert, dead eyed, stacking sticks for a tiny fire and Mattie, still muttering and blank faced as he rolls out his blanket. Like they agreed when they first came here, they'll camp during the day, which means…

Alfred is oddly not alarmed by the fact the entire day —or rather night— passed in what felt like only a few minutes while he watched Arthur walking.

However, the now small part of him that remains rational tells him he should feel alarmed by his lack of alarm, a conundrum that is far too complex for his frazzled brain to properly process.

Again he blinks out of his thoughts to find himself sitting against a tree by the now lit fire, his blanket over his legs, with no recollection of how these events occurred. His glazed eyes drift up from the flames he's been staring at for hours to lazily look at the others.

First they drift over Gilbert, sitting crossed legged, his bird nested between them as the man repeatedly runs his hand down from the top of its head to its tail, over and over and over again, as if he doesn't even notice what he's doing.

Leaning up against a tree somewhere between them he finds Mattie with is knees pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around them as he slowly rocks back and forth, muttering even more into the fire.

Maybe it's the sight of his only family and best friend falling to pieces before his eyes, or maybe it's the realisation of just how fucked they are, or maybe it's something else entirely that's beyond his minds current comprehension that causes it. Whatever it is, the result is the same; for the first time in what feels like a century, a single, solid, thought enters Alfred's mind.

We need to get out of here.

The thought takes root like a weed, growing until it becomes so large it demands to be heard.

"we _need_ to get out of here!"

He doesn't realise how loud he spoke until the sound of his own voice makes him jump. It's that jump that triggers more of himself into awakening.

Suddenly, like a flood of ice cold water has been dumped on his head, sense returns to him in an instant. And a sound he'd long since dismissed as the wind snaps back into clarity.

' _Just hold on, I'll keep you safe, I promise.'_

Turning to the side, Al finds large green eyes watching his, worry written all over them.

"Arthur?"

' _Oh thank the Snow Mother!_ '

Rather inexplicably —to Alfred at least— Arthur pounces on him, toppling him from his feet into the soft ground, and before he can even begin to process anything, a large wet tongue licks him across the face.

"Ewww…" Al groans, scrunching his face up.

He can feel the sticky saliva coating the entire right side of his face and matting his hair to his forehead.

However the sound of disgust only seems to delight Arthur further as he hovers his face mere inches above Al's, breathing hot breath down on him and fluttering the hair this not been slobbered on.

' _Your back!_ '

Without warning Arthur drops the full weight of his head down onto Al's chest, heavily nuzzling the knights neck.

" _Off!_ Urgh- _ooooww!_ Has anyone told you your _really_ heavy?" Al whiles.

' _Oh!_ ' Seeming to suddenly remember himself, Arthur hurriedly jumps up, looking away, but remains standing over Alfred.

Carefully sitting up, Al makes it a point to scoot back from under the wolf, lest Arthur drop himself down on him again.

"What do you mean 'I'm back'? I never left."

Arthur tilts his head in confusion, then rapidly shakes it.

' _No not back like gone, back like... like..._ ' The wolf frowns deeply, struggling to find the word. ' _Day sleeping._ '

"Day… sleeping?"

' _Yes. The Dream Weavers' song made you sleep but not sleep._ ' Arthur nods over to the other two, ' _Look, they still sleep. They're caught in the Weavers' web._ '

Looking over, Al finds the other two standing still, shoulders slumped, faces blank and eyes glazed over, seeing nothing before them.

Confused, Al tries to puzzle out what's going on.

"So, what? I was sleep walking? Caused by this Dream Weavers' song… so is it like an enchantment?"

Arthur nods, ' _Yes, yes! Exactly._ '

"Okay… so all we gotta do is wake them up. How did I wake up?"

' _I do not know how, all I've been able to do is guard you since you went under a few minutes ago._ '

"Eh?! Minutes?"

' _Yes, almost as soon as we passed the barrier._ '

Completely shocked by this, Al quickly spins around, looking about, and, sure enough, he sees the desert just barely visible between the trees only a few hundred yards away.

His mouth works soundlessly for a moment as he tries to process all of this. Now, all of the oddities of these past days is starting to make sense.

"Wait, how come you weren't affected?"

Arthur acts affronted by the question, huffing loudly and giving Al a burning glare.

'I, _unlike you lot, am not so weak as to fall prey to such a simple trick._ '

That doesn't really answer Al's question, but while he's still figuring things out, the sound of multiple legs skittering through the trees resonates nearby.

' _Stay back!_ ' Arthur growls warningly into the dark forest, letting his teeth flash and the skittering seems to retreat.

"Um, what was that?" Al asks, deeply unnerved by the sound.

Arthur lets another deep growl rumble from his throat just for good measure before answering.

' _The Weavers. They sing when they get close, then they feed on their entranced victims._ '

Alfred really doesn't want to be a part of the 'feeding', so he quickly turns his attention to the other two.

"We gotta wake them up too."

Hurrying to Mattie's side, Al shakes his twin, trying to rouse a response out of him.

"Come on bro, you gotta wake up. You too Gil!" Al calls, and Gilbird caws up from the ground in agreement, pecking at Gills leg.

' _That won't work, I've tried, you must break the song spell that's bound them._ ' Arthur says, closely watching the woods for the Weavers.

"Yeah but how?"

' _How did you?_ '

Desperately, Al thinks over the dream. Now that he thinks about it, he oddly seemed the most put together of the three, because Arthur's presence helped keep him sane. He wonders if that was his subconscious trying to tell him Arthur was protecting them, or maybe it was a result of their bond.

He's going to go out on a limb and guess it was the protection, since if Arthur is keeping the Weavers away, maybe he can act as that too…

With absolutely no basis besides these thoughts to go on, Alfred wraps his arms around Matthew in a tight, protective hug.

"Look Mattie, Artie is keeping me safe, so I can keep you safe."

He hugs his brother tighter, and when he hears the skittering, he loudly shouts at them to go away right along with Arthur's growling.

"Eh? Al?"

Somehow, it works.

" _Mattie!"_

If Matthew thought Al was hugging him hard before, he's discovering a whole new level of bear hug now.

"Al..please..can't.. _breathe!_ "

"Oh right! Sorry!" Quickly jumping back, Al turns his attention to Gilbert.

Disoriented, and more than a little bit confused, Matthew gives his twin a strange look, "Um, Al? Why are you hugging Gil?"

"To wake him up."

"Riiiight…"

Matt is even more confused now, and with no explanation as to what's going on, he's left quite baffled when the creepy skittering sounds somewhere behind him, only for Al to loudly shout for it to piss off and Arthur growl angrily at it too.

* * *

Some awkward explanations later, and the group are now back on the move.

"Right, we _seriously_ need to keep our guard up here. Who knows what else we might run into out there." Gil warns, keeping a steady hand on his sword.

Matthew nods in agreement as he finishes up tying a quick protection ward to each of their tunics. "We should also mark our way so we don't get lost." He suggests, pulling a small dagger out from his belt and cutting an arrow shape into the bark of a tree.

After a moment of silence, a thought occurs to Alfred, "Hey Artie? How come you knew about the Dream Weavers?"

He doesn't respond right away, quietly trailing behind the knight, and just when Al starts to think he won't get one, Arthur finally answers.

' _Where I come from, there are Weavers that make their home in the dark hearts of the mountains. They… often tried to infest the dens of my kin._ '

Alfred gets the feeling there's more to it, but for some reason Arthur is reluctant to talk about it. Knowing better than to push the subject, Al switches topic in hopes of improving the wolf's now closed of mood.

"Doesn't this place bother you?"

Surprise by the question, Arthur raises what would be a furry eyebrow at him.

' _How so?_ '

Don't you feel it? The air here, it's like it's charged with… this _raw_ energy, pushing down on you." The more he talks about it, the more Al notices just how oppressive it feels and a shiver runs through his soul. "It feels like the entire forest is just… _waiting_ for something to happen."

Just in front of him, Matt and Gil have been quietly listening in, both silently agreeing with Al's description, even if they can't hear Arthur's voice. But neither of them need a translator for the sound that Arthur makes which can only be described as a scoff, and the smug look he gives the three of them.

"What?" Al asks, a little annoyed by Arthur laughing at him.

' _You humans have such a twisted sense of nature. This air is not raw, it's pure. Your places, the towns and cities,_ they _are what is off._ ' He nudges Al's side playfully, still looking quite smug at the blondes offended stare.

"We're not twisted!"

Somehow, Arthur manages to roll his eyes at him.

' _No of course not. But…_ ' he pauses for a moment, looking around, ' _There_ is _something to this place._ '

"Really?"

Arthur hums, looking up to the ash-grey twisted branches above and the oil black leaves that cover them, blotting out most of the bleak sunlight.

' _There are tales,_ ' he explains, ' _stories passed down the lines. All have one thing in common. We wolves of snow came from a forest of black._ ' He pauses to look around, taking in all that can be seen, ' _From the moment we got close enough to the barrier to feel the air of this land, I knew it._ This _is the forest of black the elders all spoke of._ '

"Your family came from here?"

' _My kin, yes. But I cannot deny it; this here feels more like home than any other place I have been with you._ '

"I suppose that makes sense." Al nods as they walk, also looking around, though he can make little out in the dappled light, "We have stories too. According to the old legends, The Great God Nankeke grew jealous of all the land the gentle creatures of the Sweet Goddess Afla were given to roam. So to spite her, he turned himself into a squirrel, one of the Goddess's most beloved creatures, and snuck into the heartland of her domain. There, he birthed all the beasts of the world, and took over Afla's forest, twisting it to be his own."

' _Then what happened?_ ' Arthur asks, green eyes twinkling with curiosity, enthralled by the story.

"Neither Afla nor her creations could stand up to Great Nankeke, and so were forced out, leaving the land to him. We call this place, The Mighty Wilderness of Nankeke." Al finishes, flourishing his hands out to gesture to the woods as a whole.

"That's not the end of it." Mattie adds, stepping back to walk beside Al.

"It's not? I'm pretty sure that's all I can remember reading in the fables."

"In Nankeke's fable, yeah. But there's another part to it. Marahöl's gateway."

Both Al and Gil flinch at the name, hurriedly whispering an identical prayer under their breaths in unison before berating Matt.

"By the _Gods_ Mattie! Don't just go saying that!"

"You wanna fucking get us cursed?!" Alfred cries and Gil hisses back at him.

Despite the pairs outbursts, Matthew Just rolls his eyes.

"You see? This is what military indoctrination has done, your both too afraid of just _a name_ , to even listen to what I was going to say."

"With good reason!" Al cries, "Don't just go saying the Lord of all Demon's name like your commenting on the weather!"

"I was just sa-" Matt tries to explain, but is cut off by Al's hand slapping over his mouth.

" _Shh!_ "

For a moment Matthew thinks it's because Al's still freaking out over what he's going to say, but when the group halts, he knows it's more than that.

Squinting into the shadowy darkness from the small clearing they find themselves in, does nothing to help him see what has the pair on edge.

"Listen," Al whispers, "Do you hear that?"

Somewhere out in the darkness before them, the growling from their dreams sounds, but this time, it's _definitely_ closer.

Silently as they can, both Gil and Al draw their swords, moving near soundlessly to stand in a defensive position. Remaining still, Matt watches as Arthur slowly stalks forward, his large paws making hardly a whisper as he carefully picks his way across the soft soil to stand between the two fighters.

Just behind the trees on the other side of the clearing, in the darkness, a large shadow shifts, rising up from what Matt realises was a crouch. A terrified jolt of fear runs through him as the form growls, and he realises just how close this thing was without them noticing.

Then he feels a sense of dread set in as not one, or two, but six other shadows move forward, surrounding them. Alfred and Gilbert quickly raise their swords in defence, but Arthur remains still and silent.

In the centre, coming out of the shadows, large brown eyes glare, pointed teeth glint, and a sharp clawed paw steps into the light.

A rustle, then, before them, a pack of Giant Grey Wolves stands.

* * *

 **Authors notes:** Mwahahaha! Aah, I do love a good cliffhanger.

It's taken long enough, but we're finally getting some more lore. So yes, to clarify; The Wilderness is not only the home, but also the origin of _all_ the big nasty creatures of this world, hence why Arthur feels drawn to it. And if it wasn't already obvious, Nankeke is an utter _asshole_ God of this world who made all these _wonderful_ things just to fuck with everyone.

Yet even _he's_ not the worst…

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	37. The Grey Wolves

Alfred's mind is racing as he scans his surroundings.

All those years of military training instantly kick in, like a switch has been flipped in his head, and everything becomes calculated.

Three to the left, four to the right.

He shifts, almost imperceptibly, putting more of his weight on his right foot and slowly rotates his wrist, aiming his sword more towards them. To his left, he knows without even looking that Gilbert is doing the exact same thing.

Each breath is measured, every twitch of the wolves before them is seen and adjusted for. Any attack, from any angle is precisely planned for. The beasts could pounce at any second, and Al knows that the next few moments will very well decide if they live or die.

He can't allow for even a second of hesitation, but deep within his core, he can feel through their bond, something is off.

He frowns at the sensation coming from Arthur, like he's waiting for something. But it's more than that, the more Al contemplates it, the more he unravels the feelings twisting inside his friend. Hesitation, wariness, fear and intimidation are all spiralling inside him, freezing Arthur in place as he stares up at the pack leader standing right in front of them.

Alfred would wonder why _Arthur_ of all people is intimidated by them, if the answer wasn't obvious.

Never having seen any other giant wolves beside Arthur, Al never had anything to compare the snow wolf too. Not once did it ever occur to Alfred, that Arthur was _small_ for his kind.

For a moment Al considers that the size difference is because their different species, just because they're both giant wolves, doesn't mean they have to be the same. Looking the pack over, Al quickly picks out all the differences he can see.

The first major difference is the fur; these wolves are a mix of blended greys, darker areas around the shoulders and lighter across the belly and paws. Their coats are thinner too, giving them the look of being much slimmer than Arthur. Then, there's the eyes, all slightly larger than the snow wolf's, with wide dark pupils and deep brown or grey irises. Their snouts and ears are more pointed, and their legs leaner. And of course, he loops back to the size difference. The largest wolf, the pack leader, stands a full head and shoulders taller than Arthur, and even the smallest of the others still towers over the snow wolf by a good few inches.

Standing here, exposed in this tiny clearing, Alfred is fully aware things don't look good. He is all too aware of what Arthur alone is able to do to a group of fully armoured guards, and they, with only the most basic of light armour, stand little chance against this pack.

Even so, he refuses to accept their impending doom, no matter how bad things look.

He's prepared for the attack, but what he's not ready for, is the strange deep voice that rumbles through his mind as the pack leader growls.

' _What do we have here?_ ' He grumbles, narrowing his eyes at Arthur.

Alfred blinks at the sound. The voice is slightly garbled with an odd accent he's never heard before, but he still manages to understand the wolf.

His mind races more with this realisation, and distantly he remembers the words he read in his father's journal; he should be able to speak with all Beasts, but wolves like Arthur would be easiest.

But before he can do anything with this newfound knowledge, the leader huffs, rising to its full height as he sneers down at Arthur.

' _A poor little packless_ runt _has gotten himself lost._ '

Alfred almost gasps at the sharp twang of pain and anger that radiates from Arthur at the insult, and much to his surprise he sees the snow wolf visibly flinch.

The flinch doesn't go unnoticed by the other wolves either, and the leader somehow twists its face into an even more smug sneer as the others make a strange chittering noise. It doesn't take a genius to figure out the noise is them laughing.

When the wolf takes an intimidating step closer, Gil aims his sword for it, but Al quickly throws out his hand, signalling him to stop and opens his mouth to speak, but is beat to it by Arthur.

' _I am not lost, nor am I alone._ ' His voice is even, but Al can hear the odd lack of strength behind his words.

The other wolves seem to pick up on this as well.

' _Ohh?_ ' The leader quirks his head at him, ' _Then_ do _tell, just where_ is _your pack **runt**?_' He drawls mockingly, laughing at how Arthur tries not to flinch again at the insult.

Alfred can't stand this any longer.

Purposely stepping forward to be by Arthur's head, he raises his blade, pointing it right at the leaders face, he makes his presence known.

" _We're_ his pack."

Out of the corner of his eye, Al sees Gil give him a warning look and he can feel both Arthur's and Mattie's eyes watching him.

The leader blinks in surprise, then lowers his head down to Alfred, studying the young knight.

' _Such a small thing you are, and yet you speak so boldly._ ' A cruel grins slowly spreads across his face as he looks Al over, ' _So_ this _is what a human looks like? Is little Runty so weak that he can only keep the company of a pathetic Lower like you?_ '

Again Alfred feels the pang of hurt at the name, like someone is twisting a knife in Arthur's heart, and an anger of his own begins to boil in defence.

" _Don't_ call him that."

The grey wolf raises an eyebrow at him and seems to chuckle, ' _Oh defensive are we?_ '

"Shut up!" Al snaps, his anger growing the more this wolf talks.

Beside him, he feels a nervousness in Arthur as he whispers Al's name.

It's toying with him, he knows, but that only makes Al more angry.

At Al's shout the wolf's demeanour suddenly shifts and, blinded by his own fury, Al is too slow to see the hit coming. In an instant he's on his back, pinned to the ground by a massive paw, almost losing his grip of his sword in the process as the wind is knocked out of him.

To his left Gil moves to strike, but surrounded as they are, even he can't fend off a whole pack and is pinned face first by one of the others. At the same time, Matthew makes an admirable attempt to defend himself, but it's no surprise he too, is soon face down in the dirt, leaving Arthur as the only one still standing, frozen in place.

' _You do not talk back to_ me!' The leader barks harshly down at Alfred.

 _'Al!_ ' Arthur cries, breaking out of his stupor and moving to lunge forward, eyes glowing.

' _Move and I kill him._ ' The leader warns, halting Arthur in his tracks.

Lying on his back, Al berates himself for letting this guy get to him and making him drop his guard. To make it's point clear, the wolf presses down more on Al's chest, sharp claws digging into the exposed areas of his neck and making it hard to breathe.

' _Don't!_ ' Arthur pleads, the glow fading from his eyes as he remains still, even though Al can feel he desperately wants to save him.

Pinned as he is, Alfred isn't able to move his arm to swing his sword, all he can do is lie there and pray this thing doesn't kill him. Tipping his head back into the damp dirt, he looks over at Arthur, sending him an apologetic look for getting himself stuck.

It's only now that he remembers the two-way factor of their bond; Arthur must also be feeling Al's pain and his difficulty breathing. Watching those wide green eyes, Al can see the fear swirling behind the surface.

Above him, the leader sneers, 'Beg.'

Anger twists within Arthur at the demand, but is far out weighed by the rising fear.

' _Please._ ' Arthur pleads again, ' _Don't kill him._ '

Alfred can tell the wolf is getting some sick satisfaction out of this as it grins wickedly.

' _No no no, that won't do. I said_ beg. _Beg for their lives_ **runt**.'

The claws dig in more to Al's neck, drawing blood, and he can hardly get enough air into his lungs from the pressure on his chest.

Past his own pain and fear for both his life and the lives of his friends, Al focuses on his bond with Arthur. Both his and the wolf's feelings are blending together, but within the maelstrom of whirling emotions, he can feel a familiar fear, a sense of dread and terror rising up in Arthur and threatening to overshadow everything else.

Tears sting the back of his eyes of their own accord when Al feels Arthur abandoning his pride as the snow wolf is threatened to be crushed by his own terror.

Alfred may not understand the full implications of what this bastard is making Arthur do, but he knows it feels degrading.

Bowing his head and not looking any of the other wolves in the eye, Arthur slowly lies down flat before them, then carefully rolls to lie on his back.

'Please, _I_ **beg** _of you, don't kill them. **Please.**_ ' His voice breaks with the choked beg.

Al's vision clouds and tears fall from his eyes at the sight.

' _Good,_ ' The leader sneers, jerking its head from one of the others towards Arthur, ' _Keep going._ '

' _Please!_ ' Arthur cries as the signalled wolf stalks over and bites down on his exposed neck, restricting his breathing.

' _Go on, it's your life or theirs._ ' The leader laughs as Arthur struggles to breathe, signalling the others of its pack who aren't holding Gil or Mattie to join in, each biting or painfully stomping down on him.

'Pl.. _ea…se!_ '

Alfred feels himself crying more as he's forced to watch, but doesn't have enough air to even cry out himself. He fights as hard as he can, but he can feel he's close to blacking out as dark spots start to dance in the corners of his vision. The more he panics, the worse he knows it's making Arthur feel, and he can see tears glistening in the wolf's eyes as he once again gasps out a plea for their lives.

Then, as Al's struggling desperately beneath the impossibly heavy paw pressing down on him, he experiences something odd.

Images flash across his blurry vision. A jumbled mess of snow, wolves and blood flicker in his mind, and a horrific screeching sound rings deafeningly in his ears. He can't tell one thing from the other, it's all such a confusing mess, then, suddenly it snaps into clarity.

* * *

 _His head hurts and his lungs ache as he lies in the snow._

 _What happened?_

 _He tries to move, but can't. Why can't he?_

 _He tries to think, but everything_ hurts _so much…_

 _Is it warm here, or cold? He can't tell…_

 _He squints through the pain, trying to figure out what happened._

 _Everything is oddly dark, but he's sure it's the middle of the day. Is he in the den?_

 _No… that doesn't seem right, it's too narrow in here._

 _Wait, not narrow. The ceilings not what's low, it's the rocks, that's why he can't move._

 _His eyes finally adjust and now he can see, it's not darkness he's been squinting at…_

 _A shuddering breath escapes him as everything comes rushing back._

 _Nononononono…._

 _Everywhere he can look in his trapped position, is snow turned black with blood. The warmth he's been feeling is the blood soaking his fur, and the cold? That's the icy rocks burying him, and no doubt his own blood loss too. And judging by the pain, he's fairly certain he has more than a few broken bones._

 _A sound that he can only call a nightmare incarnated rips through the air, making him snap his eyes closed and pin his ears to his head to block out the sound._

 _They have to run, run now!_

 _They?_

 _That's right!_

 _'Peter?' He calls quietly._

 _Twisting as much as he can, he fights the pain to look around the crushing darkness._

 _There beside him, a patch of fur._

 _But…_

 _His eyes widen in horror as he recognises it, even as it's soaked red in blood._

 _'Pete..' He whispers, eyes slowly trailing up from the tail to…_

X

A distant howl pulls Al from the strange vision back to reality. The sound also seems to distract the wolves as the leader lets up some of the pressure on Al's chest, and he desperately gulps in the air he was so deprived of. The ones pinning Arthur also let up, their head snapping up to look in the direction of the sound.

Once his lungs are full again, Al grasps at the opening, putting all his strength into his arm to swing at the wolf's leg, and somehow he manages it. Though he only lands a light hit to the leg, it's enough to make the wolf recoil and allow Alfred room to wriggle free.

Scrambling to his feet, Al raises his sword at the wolf who growls low in anger, making ready to strike.

He's never done this before, but he can't afford to think about the risks of if this doesn't work, because failure is not an option. Again remembering the words in his father's journal, Al pray's that this'll work. They're wolves, just like Arthur after all.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. The leader lunges as Al snaps his eyes open, and with a voice filled with power, he commands, " _Stop!_ "

Just like the times he's ordered Arthur, the wolf halts in its tracks, compelled by the command.

Pointing his sword threateningly at the leaders surprised face, he frowns and demands, " _Let my friends_ go."

The wolf's face twitches with anger as it tries to growl, but Alfred won't let up. Looking over his shoulder at Arthur, he can see the lost and fearful look filling his friends face as the images return, only for an instant to faintly flicker across his mind, and with them a single word rings.

Turning back to the leader, he roars, " ** _Obey!_** ", surprised to hear the deep growl that comes from his throat as he says the word.

The wolf clearly tries to fight it, but when Alfred repeats the demand, his voice twisting to sound even more animalistic, it finally bends.

Eyes snapping down, it slowly steps back, bowing its head.

' _Let them go._ ' He tells his pack, and the others are quick to obey.

Now free, Matt and Gil jump to their feet and hurry to Al's side.

"Kid..?" Gil asks slowly, but Al can't think about him now, his mind concentrating on maintaining control of the wolf leader. But he is distracted when Arthur moves to his side, and he can feel just how unstable the snow wolf is.

Stepping forward Arthur growls loudly, mouth open as he bares his teeth and ears back as his face twists into a terrifying snarl, the likes of which Al has never witnessed before. Hackles raised, the fur along Arthur's back stands on end and his tail whips out behind him.

It's a display Alfred has never seen the snow wolf make, and much to his confusion, he doesn't hear Arthur say a single word.

Around them, the other wolves shrink back, whimpering at the sight, only the leader stands up to Arthur as he too, mimics the wild and dangerous look, using his much larger size to tower over the snow wolf.

"Arthur what-" Al starts to ask, but is cut off as the two start to circle and Matt pulls him back. "Mattie?"

"I've read about this," Matthew hurriedly explains, "I think Arthur is challenging it." He doesn't have time to elaborate any further as suddenly Arthur lunges.

"Arthur!" Al calls, reaching out, only to be held back by both Matt and Gil.

Arthur goes for the grey's neck first, and it turn the leader moves to swipe at Arthur's face. Then, it all descends into a twisting, rolling fight as the pair wrestle, tumbling deeper into the dark woods.

Teeth and claws are everywhere, and in the darkness of the forest, it soon becomes impossible to tell one wolf apart from the other as they constantly switch places, moving over and under each other as they fight, both attempting to dominate the other.

Pain explodes across Alfred's right arm, then his left leg, then his neck, face, stomach and back as he feels the injuries inflicted to Arthur, helpless but to watch.

The combines sounds of growls and yelps of pain, of rustling leaves and crushed branches underfoot and body fill the silent forest, and through it all Al feels the blinding cocktail of emotions ravaging Arthur's mind; anger, fear, hate, loss, pain, heartbreak and grief.

Alfred tries to think of a plan to help, but it's difficult enough for him to control the leader, and with Arthur blinded but the whirlpool of emotions driving him, Al has no chance of controlling them both, not to mention all the others. He looks to Gil, but already knows the answer without the man saying it; he could try to paralyse the leader, but with the way things are, he'd almost definitely hit Arthur in the process, then who knows what might happen.

Without warning, they hear a heavy crash and a particularly pained whine, then, silence.

Pulling free of his brother and friend, Al rushes after the wolves, only to stop and stare at what he finds.

The leader, beaten, covered in deep wounds and bleeding heavily from several places, lies on his side as Arthur stands over him, mouth clamped around the leaders throat and paw holding its shoulder down. Despite his apparent victory, Arthur is covered in even more wounds and blood than the wolf he pins.

Alfred worries Arthur might have killed the leader, until he hears the first words from either of them since the fight began.

' _I… yield..!_ '

But even as it gasps this, Arthur shows no sign of letting up, instead, blinded by rage, he bites down even harder, teeth sinking in further as the grey wolf struggles for air below.

Now's Al's chance, he has to calm Arthur down and get him back under control!

Running to the snow wolf's side, Al wraps his arms around Arthur's neck as best he can and pulls back.

"Arthur, _stop!_ " He orders, and is infinitely relieved that it works.

Finally Arthur lets up, spitting the grey wolf's fur from his mouth as he steps back. Panting heavily, both from the fight and from his uncontrolled anger, Arthur looks to Al with wide, worried eyes.

' _Al I…_ ' He starts, slowly regaining control of himself.

At their feet, the wolf weakly looks up at Arthur as one of its pack rushes to its side. Alfred can hear a garbled rush of words spilling from it as it licks the leaders wounds, though about the only thing he can get from it is that the voice sounds distinctly female.

Tiredly, the leader sighs to her, ' _No Safra, he won. The pack is his._ '

Arthur blinks in shock, slowly coming to terms with what he just did, then rapidly shakes his head, ' _No no, I… I don't_ _want_ your _pack._ '

Confused, the bested leader asks, ' _Then,_ _what_ do _you want?_ '

Panicked, Arthur looks to Alfred for help. Luckily, an idea occurs to the knight at that very moment.

"You know these woods right? You live here after all."

' _Yes, of course._ '

"We need to go north, we're looking for someone." He grins, "Think you can lead us?"

The leader sighs, then nods, ' _Very well._ '

Not exactly how Al plan things to go today, but he knows to count his blessings.

"Kid." Gil demands, grabbing Al's arm, "Explain. _Now._ "

Raising his eyebrows Al slowly shakes his head in disbelief as he weakly gestures to the wolves.

"We got ourselves a guide."

* * *

 **Authors notes:** Yuuup. So that happened.

This entire chapter can be summed up as the case and point of what happens when you base opinions on your experience of only one of something, then meet others of said thing. Quite quickly you find the one is not an accurate account of the whole. Or simply, Arthur isn't like your average wolf, and these are.

Plus more stress induced flashbacks, though this time Alfred is seeing them too… But hey, Al finally put more of his gift to the test and can now talk to other wolves, so that's something…

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	38. The Demoness Chronicles

**Chapter warning: torture, death**

* * *

Meanwhile, back in Daská…

* * *

Elizabeta is trying _really_ hard not to sigh in boredom or annoyance. Instead she focuses on maintaining her posture, even as her wings start to ache from sitting still for so long. Straight back, strong shoulders she reminds herself, but also be at least a _little_ lady like, if only for appearances. But her left wing is starting to cramp, causing her to fight off the frown from her face as she ever so slightly shifts it out to relieve the strain.

This is the one thing she always hated about being in charge.

Council Meetings.

But these aren't like with her War Council, no, those she can handle. _These_ meetings, are of bureaucracy. Ugh, just thinking about it makes her want to cringe.

It's not even all of the pointless talk of budgets and public opinion and taxes and all that other stuff she couldn't care less for that annoys her so much, it's that fact that she's not really even needed here.

Around her sit the fifty seven men and women of the Clans of Daská, thirty two from the northern half, twenty five from here in the southern half of the Kingdom. Though, thinking about it, she guesses 'kingdom' is a bit of a defunct title. Maybe they should really start calling it the 'Republic' of Daská, given that they haven't had a monarch since the 'Fall of the South' some ten years ago now.

Gods, she thinks, has it really been that long?

As the clan heads devolve into an argument over the grain distribution last month, Liz let's her mind wander, and thoughts of the past come to fill her present.

* * *

The memories of the days she was normal, of the days with her family are few, but treasured. They were happy, despite being poor. They had each other, and she thinks that's all they ever really needed. She remembers her father's hands were rough from long days tending the fields, but gentle and kind. And her mother's hair, just like her's, who always smelled of fresh bread.

Their's was a small farming village, built by the fields along the banks of the river Asteca, the main source of water and life giver to the poorer east side of Southern Daská.

But those days were all too short, and are days she can never get back.

They came at night.

Men, built like beasts, set fire to their homes and the village burned as they killed those who tried to flee.

She'll never forget that night.

Being pulled from her bed by her mother, the look of fear on her face as she hurriedly gathered Liz up and pulled her out into the burning streets. The sight of her village, the only home she'd ever known, ablaze before her very eyes as she was forced to run, pulled along by the arm. Even now, she can clearly see the image of those houses, shrouded in orange flames lighting the black night, and hear the crackle of fire, the screams of fear, and she can still smell the smoke, and death of that night.

She had been confused, any seven year old would be, and scared. She had wondered where her father was, and what was happening.

She should have just run faster…

* * *

 _"Liz! Lizzy wake up! Quickly!"_

 _"Mhh.. mum?" Elizabeta groans, blinking tiredly up at her mother._

 _It's dark, far too dark to be morning just yet, but there are lights outside, and, now that she's waking up, she can hear shouting too._

 _"Hurry now, we have to go!" Her mother is quiet, barely above a whisper, but the urgency of her voice is what pulls Liz fully out of her slumber._

 _With little more warning, her mother near yanks her to her feet, wrapping a cloak over her shoulders as she tugs her daughter out the door and into the night._

 _The second she's outside, Liz freezes at the sight, but only for a moment before she's being pulled along by the arm, her mother frantic to get away._

 _The lights she saw glowing in the window… the whole village is on fire. Everywhere she looks, flames lick and crackle, and in that instant she's convinced the whole world is burning as the night sky is a glow with the firelight._

 _"Mother… what.. what's going on?!" She cries, scared out of her mind as she can hear screaming down the street they're running past._

 _Her mother doesn't answer, mostly because she doesn't know herself, instead she tugs Liz's arm harder, urging her to run faster._

 _Looking around, it's only now that her tired mind is catching up to the gravity of what's going on, and worriedly she asks, "Where's father?!"_

 _Another scream near by rings out, as if answering her question, even as her mother remains silent._

 _"Mum! We have to find him! We have to go back!"_

 _"No!" Her mother cries, tears spilling from her eyes, "No Lizzy, we need to run!"_

 _"But!" She tries to argue back, but their luck has run out._

 _Bursting through the burning door of a house to their left, a hulking beast of a man appears, eyes black as night, teeth as sharp as the wild sand creatures. He grins wide and vicious as the fiery splinters of the door rain down around him, lashing out a hand to grab her mother by the throat, lifting her off her feet with ease._

 _"Muuuum!" Liz screams as her mother desperately scratches at the hand around her neck._

 _Even so, her concern is not for herself, as she gasps out, "Run… Lizzy…_ run _!"_

 _Completely scared stiff, Liz shakes her head, tears in her eyes, but when the man looks down at her, she turns and bolts away, back the way they came._

 _Those were the last words she'd ever hear from her mother._

 _Tears streaming down her face, Liz ran as fast as she could, but it would never be fast enough. With a guttural roar, the beast man stomped after her, and before she even knew what was happening, a heavy weight collided with her back, causing Liz to be knocked off her feet, landing face first in the dirt, the odd weight pinning her back to the ground._

 _Winded, she scrambled to get up, twisting to try to push the weight off of her, only to freeze in horror as she sees what it is._

 _Her mother, neck broken, lies motionlessly across her back, eyes blankly staring up at the burning night sky._

 _Liz screams as she comes face to face with her mother's lifeless one, only the sound of the man stomping towards her is able to snap her into trying to run again. But against_ this _, she, nor anyone else in her village didn't stand a chance._

 _Just as she had managed to crawl out from under her mother, the beast man reached her, his hulking form towering over her as he slams his hand down and wraps it around her small body._

 _"Not this one, you brute." An eerily calm voice sounds out of the air above, and the beast halts._

 _Seeming to appear out of the falling ash in the air, a thin cloaked figure materialises._

 _The figure is mostly clothed in black, the only colour being found in the crimson beak shaped mask he wears, covering his face down to Just above his mouth, and the blood red cape that flows over the back of his dark cloak, bearing a golden symbol that Elizabeta would come to hate._

 _"Let me see her." Despite all of the carnage around them, the cloaked man sounds rather bored, crossing his arms as he waits._

 _Obediently, the beast man picks Liz up, his whole had big enough to wrap around her body, arms pinned to her side, as he holds her out for inspection with ease._

 _Stepping closer, the thin man hums in thought as he uses a hand to grasp Liz's face, turning it side to side as he looks her over._

 _"Hardly the best specimen, she's clearly malnourished, just look at how thin she is." He sighs, sounding annoyed as he lets her face go, "Honestly, what am I supposed to do with such poor pickings as these?"_

 _The large man only grunts, shaking Liz slightly as if that were an answer._

 _"Oh as if I should expect any sort of_ real _answer from you." The masked man sighs._

 _Not liking the talk, let alone being held out like some sort of toy, Liz desperately tries to struggle free, twisting her head down to bite the large finger across her collar, and swing her legs back in a futile attempt to kick her captor._

 _The brute whines at the bite, something that sounds far too innocent and pleading to be coming from such a monster. However, her actions seem to draw the attention of the thin man, as he peaks through the eye slits of his mask to study her._

 _"Oh don't be such a pathetic baby, she's hardly capable of any real harm, least of all to you. But..."_

 _The devious grin that spread out across the man's face, visibly beneath the sloping curve of that crimson beak, would come to haunt Elizabeta's nightmares for the rest of her life._

 _"She may have some use after all. Put her with the others."_

* * *

From there, she remembers being thrown in a caged cart with a handful of other children from her village. By the time the men were done, everyone in her village was either dead or in that cage with her.

She sat, huddled together and crying as they watched their home burn, and then, the men took them away. She wouldn't know where exactly they had been taken for another two years. But by then, her whole world had been destroyed…

* * *

 _For eight days they were kept in that cage, a dark cloth covering it and hiding them from outside view as they were taken who knows where. They were only given the bare minimum of water, and no food._

 _Starving and near dying of thirst, none of them had any strength to sit up, let alone put up any kind of resistance when the cart finally stopped, and the cage was opened. The 'Brutes' as they had come to call them, were the ones to reach in and pull them out, carrying multiple kids under one arm as they headed inside._

 _Weakly, Liz dangled from a Brutes hand as she dully looked down into the dark corridor ahead, eyes watching the red cape of the Thin Man leading the way._

 _After a while of wandering down twisting, poorly lit corridors, she along with the others, were unceremoniously dumped on a cold metal table._

 _With as much strength as she can muster, Liz pushed her head up to look around. There are other men just like the Thin Man down here, and they see her looking, and smile._

 _Even though she doesn't have the strength, she tries to get up, to run, to get away, because nothing good can come from here. But her weak movement only seems to please the masked men more._

 _"Ah," one of then says as he tugs her arms up over her head, strapping them to the table, "a lively one. This should be good."_

 _"Yes," another agrees as he pulls her legs to the straps and secures them by the ankle, "it has been a while since we've had one as spirited as this."_

 _"Let's start with her." The Thin Man says, Liz can tell it's him just from his sickeningly bored voice._

 _Had she known what was to come, she would have refused anything they gave her, but, she was so thirsty, she didn't think twice when a bowl was pushed to her lips as she was told to drink._

 _But it wasn't water they gave her._

 _She gagged as the warm, thick, black liquid filled her mouth, tasting of iron and acid. It burned her throat, but they continued to feed it to her, holding her nose close to force her to drink if she wanted to breathe._

 _She gulped it down, despite the disgusting taste and feel. The more she drank, the more her throat burned, becoming painful. Just as it was reaching the point of becoming unbearable, they stopped, taking the bowl away. But that wasn't the end of her trouble. The liquid sat heavily in her stomach, making it twist painfully. She felt like she was going to be sick, but she knew if she was sick she'd lose the precious fluid left in her, so she fought against the pain, forcing herself to keep the disgusting stuff inside._

 _Somewhere to her right, she could hear a boy vomiting, they must be feeding the others this stuff._

 _"Good," The Thin Man grinned, starting to sound interested in her, "Most people listen to their body when it tells them to get rid of something toxic, but your strong. Good. That strength is what we will cultivate."_

* * *

 _The day and weeks blurred together, her existence became that room. Strapped to that cold metal table, she could only tell the time by the twice a day feeding of that liquid they gave them._

 _At first their was six of them._

 _The boy who vomited before was the first to be taken away. Dead after four feeds…_

 _Another three, and a girl was next to die. Liz knew her, she had lived not far from her. She cried that day._

 _The pain in her stomach grew with each dose they gave, the urge to be sick stronger as well, but she resisted. She had to be strong if she wanted to live through this._

 _Another five feeds and two more were gone. The pain wasn't just in her stomach anymore, it was all throughout her belly and chest. It hurt so much, but still she refused to be sick._

 _She had to be strong. She had to survive._

 _Six more doses, and the last boy was gone, she had lay there in utter agony as she listened to him be sick over and over and over again. She was happy when he finally stopped, she could suffer in peace now._

 _She remained there, all alone, the only company the Masked Ones who came to feed her and the silence of her prison. She lost count of how many times they fed her that stuff, but, at some point, it stopped hurting so much, then, it stopped hurting all together. She could drink it without feeling the burn, or even noticing the taste._

 _It was then, that the Thin Man returned._

 _"Good," He drawled down at her, his grin wide and devious, "You're ready to truly begin."_

* * *

"Do you not agree Lady Héderváry?"

Elizabeta blinked, returning to the present.

"Hmm?" She asks, forcing herself not to show any sign of discomfort at the memories.

"Do you not think it would be wise to implement a grain surplus tax to those who do not adequately share their harvests with the Kingdom?"

Liz frowns, both annoyed and bemused as to how they can _still_ be arguing about this.

"Adequately you say, and just what would you deem to be 'adequate'?"

"Well, as much as is needed of course." The man nods, as if what he's saying is right.

Seems it's time for Liz to put him in his place.

"Adequate, What is needed. These are very loose terms, terms that could be exploited by _greed_." She glared pointedly at the old man, seeing right through his guise, "For the betterment of the kingdom you say, but what you mean is for the betterment of _yourself_. I did not place you in charge of the kingdom's granaries so that you can make yourself rich by exploiting our farmers and selling their grain back to them." Finally with a good excuse to move, she stretches her wings out, their size always a sight to intimidate others as she huffs, "We have enough troubles to begin with, without _you_ going and making things worse with trying to pass laws of blatant extortion!"

The council fall silent, all suitably cowed by her display, she folds her wings back and sighs, "We all must pull our weight yes, but we cannot ask our farmers for more than they can give. Enough of this pointless talk, we settle this matter now. All farmers may keep up to fifteen percent of their yield. As someone who _grew up_ in a farming village, I know for a fact that that is plenty to both live off of, _and_ to replant the fields for next harvest. If they wish to give more, they can, but only by choice."

Quietly they all mumbled out some form of agreement, moving to hash out the legal and logistical details, leaving Liz to return to her memories.

* * *

By the time they removed her from that table, she wasn't the same person as she was before. She knew, deep down inside, something within her had changed. But just what that was, and what that would come to mean, she didn't know. Not yet anyway.

* * *

 _"You should know, my dear, only about one in a hundred or so ever make it this far." The Thin Man tells her as he leads the Brute carrying her through the corridors once more. For some reason, she kinda missed them._

 _"Of course,_ that _was but the beginning of what we have planned for you." He says as he leads them into a large room._

 _On the floor, she recognises the strange circle shape carved into the rock as being for magic, but, she has no idea of it's meaning. Hanging down from the ceiling in the centre of the circle, are chains and manacles stained with long dried blood._

 _Having only just been freed from that table, she's in no rush to be chained again, so Liz struggles to get free, but in the end she knows it's pointless, the Brutes are simply too strong, even as he holds her up just by the arms. Still, she doesn't make it easy for them, kicking out at the Thin Man as he tries to clamp the manacles onto her wrists. Eventually he grew annoyed and ordered the Brute to hold her by the legs as well, finally chaining her._

 _Now chained, the Thin Man waves the Brute off, leaving Liz to dangle by the wrists, her feet a good few inches off the ground._

 _"Now then, was that_ really _so hard?" He asks condescendingly._

 _In response, Liz gathers her saliva and spits, aiming for his eyes through the slits. She feels quite satisfied when she hits her mark, smirking._

 _Angered, the Thin Man lashes out, tightly grabbing Liz by the face and painfully squeezing her cheeks, preventing her from doing that again._

 _"I should warn you," He says sadistically, voice full of anger, "The odds of survival here are_ _ **much**_ _lower, and the pain will be oh so much **more**."_

 _He pushes her face away, causing Liz to swing back as he stomps off, lifting his mask to clean his face while his back is to her._

 _She's left there for some time, no doubt wanting her to stew in fear, before he returns, and not just him, but other Masked Ones too, four of them in total._

 _"Now then, let's see just how much a little wretch like you can take!"_

 _They surround her, each taking up a point of the circle, and then, they began to chant._

 _The circle then lit up with their power, but Liz couldn't care less about what colour it was, or what meaning it's symbols carry. Because at that very moment, all she knew was pain._

 _There are no words to describe the feeling of having your insides remade, to feel your body being twisted from within, by forces beyond her comprehension. It is no pain anyone should have to endure, especially not a seven year old girl. Her screams would never be enough to convey what was done to her that day, or all the days that came after._

 _She had thought time was meaningless before on that table, but now, she wishes she could go back there, because here is so much worse. She thinks she might have died a few times, the blank spots in her memory, which start with pain and end with the Thin Man frowning at her, tell her that something must have happened to make them stop, besides the times when they call it a day and wander off to leave her alone their._

 _But through it all she understood one thing; she was becoming…_ different _._

 _Her skin felt like it was on fire, and her eyes had become so good at seeing in the dark it was beginning to scare her. Was she even still her, was she even still Lizzy? She didn't know…_

 _She wished they'd just kill her, but the Thin Man seems to enjoy tormenting her, so she doubts they would any time soon._

 _Then, one day, something was different._

 _The Thin Man grinned widely as he walked up to her, clapping his hands together in glee, "Congratulations! You've survived phase two, a rare thing indeed. Seems your something special after all. Just one phase left now, phase three." He grins wider as she glares back at him, "Come now, don't be like that! You'll like this, you see, phase three only takes just one casting, that's it! Then it'll be all over."_

 _"It… it will?" Liz rasps, surprised, but still determined not to get her hopes up._

 _"Yes. You will either be remade and welcomed into the Noceum Order," he paused, his grin widening in sadistic pleasure, "Or you'll die! A most gruesome and painful death far beyond anything you've experienced so far. Now, you might be thinking that's not possible,_ oohhh _, but_ believe _me, it_ is _." He's practically giddy as he claps his hands together and calls, "Bring it in!"_

 _Liz watches as two Brutes pull a black, leathery skin creature in by a chain attached to a thick metal collar around its neck._

 _"Oh, I wonder if you've figured it out yet?" Thin Man asks, grinning that knowing grin of his._

 _"F…figured what… out?"_

 _"Heh, why the Brutes of course!"_

 _Liz doesn't have the energy for this game, so she simply gives a weak shake of the head._

 _"Oh? Then you'll absolutely_ love _this! You see the Brutes, I made them!" The man is sickeningly excited as he explains while the Brutes tug the creature into the circle, it's large wings flapping in an attempt to break free._

 _"Do you see yet? Just like you, they were plucked from their homes and brought here. Though the first ones I made weren't very good, far too dumb. But like any good scientist, I worked on making improvements. Of course, the Order couldn't risk being found out, so we've had to lie low for a long time, building up slowly you see, hence the hit and runs of small, unimportant villages like yours, you know? But now! I have perfected my formula, and can make many, many Brutes. Soon, I will present them to the Grandmaster. Ohh how pleased he will be to see what I have made! But but! Before then, I need just one more thing, and that's were you come in my dear. You see, the Grandmaster, he is planning something, I can feel it. And, in order to please him,_ I _need to show that I too, can be of use in his grand plan. All I have to do is perfect it!" He grins madly, waving a hand to the creature, "All I have to do is succeed in perfectly combining a demon to a human! Then! Then he will recognise my worth!"_

* * *

 **Authors notes:** *Updates on the first of the month just enough times to make it look like a schedule, then doesn't update on the 1st… whoops!*

No but seriously life just decided to go crazy for me the past few weeks, so I haven't been able to write like I wanted to. Between starting volunteering and _still_ looking for work ('cause seriously getting a job is near impossible these days) my schedule has been thrown all kinds of out of whack. I was even planning to put up a dumb one-shot for the dorks bday, but that ballooned and completely changed halfway through, so that's a thing on the back burner for now. I'll finish it at some point…

And to the Guest reviewer, your not being rude, sometimes I need that kick up the backside of people telling me to update to get me writing again, so thank you!

But I hope this chapter makes up for my slight absence.

The flashback got so long I had to cut it off there, but a lot of important stuff happens here and in the next chapter, so I wasn't sure if I should do this now or later, but, I think now is as good a time as any for backstory. If anyone remember's I _did_ say Liz had wings 'cause of Plot, well this is the build up to that!

Also, I forgot to mention last time, if anyone noticed, I changed the cover image, since I like that one better now, and who doesn't like shirtless Al?

I am trying to stream line this story I swear, but then I get distracted and write two whole chapters of back story and wander off from the main point… fun fact, I originally planned for the climax of this story to happen by chapter 27… I may have over shot that… just a bit... but as long as you guys don't mind I guess it's all good?

 **Also side note:** not that's it's overly important but, when I do remember to put in chapter warnings, I only do so for humans (and Arthur, but he's a special case), and even though most of it takes place off screen, I put 'death' since there is a lot of it, but I'll only put the death warning for flashbacks, since doing so for present time would ruin any suspense, which is why I didn't do it back in chapter 25 (even if it was an illusion.)

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	39. Chronicles continued

**Chapter warning: blood, light gore, death**

* * *

Liz let's out a quiet sigh, relieved that the council have now finally moved on from squabbling over the grain distribution. But, much to her dismay, they have now move discussions onto the topic of the Kingdom's treasury, an even greater bore to her.

Thinking back, she remembers that day, when the Thin Man told her everything, but her memory of the process has always been oddly blank.

That had been the first time she had ever seen a demon. Before then, she had only ever heard of demons from the old tales her parents read to her, or from the rare traveling merchants that decided to humour her curiosity.

Even now, she has to suppress a shudder at the memory of the mad look in the Thin Man's eyes as he spoke of his grand plan.

Liz's hands curl into fists in her lap, and she is acutely aware of the weight of her wings, folded and pressed close to her back.

To perfectly merge a human with a demon, such twisted magic should not exist in this world.

Once again, as the talk of the council dulls to white noise around her, Liz finds herself drifting back into her past, to the day she was changed forever. The day she was curse with these wings.

* * *

 _She's not sure when she lost consciousness, or even if she really did, all Liz knows, is when she came too, she was lying on the ground. Freed from chains for the first time in so long, she'd almost forgot what it felt like to move, struggling to shift herself into a more upright position, rather than lying in a heap on the ground._

 _She only noticed the others still in the room when the Thin Man drops to his knees in front of her. With shaky hands reaching out, he grins wide and voice full of awe, he whispers, "Perfection."_

 _She scrambles to shuffle back, away from the mad man, but something touches her leg, making her automatically jerk and twist to get away. But no matter where or how she moves, the thing keeps touching her, on one side, then the other, sometimes both._

 _Having been chained for so long, Liz quickly tires, her body not used to the sudden exertion, leaving her panting as she sits, using her hands to help keep her up._

 _"Light!" The Thin man demands as he shuffles on his knees after her, "Let us see her in her full glory."_

 _The other three Masked Ones cast flames of red to light the room, while the Brutes stand still by the doorway, simply waiting their next command._

 _It's then, in the red light that Liz finally sees what it is that has been weighing down on her back, draped oddly down her arms and ends touching her bare legs, are large, leathery wings. From what she can see, they're a dull grey, just like that demon they had brought in before. Instantly, this makes her panic, now noticing the demon isn't to be seen, she tries to crawl away from them, but she doesn't get far, as the movement sends her right into the Thin Man's outstretched arms._

 _Without any kindness, he snatches her by the shoulders, pulling her forward to study her better._

 _"Remarkable. I've done it…. Hehe… Ahahahaha! Yes! A perfect fusion!" He laughs, his voice growing in volume and insanity the more he speaks._

 _Harshly, he grabs Liz by the wings, pulling them up and out to spread them, the sudden movement causing her to cry out at the painful jerks._

 _"Full nervous network intact, musculature realignment and ligament attachment seems to be successful. Tell me, can you move them? Can you?!"_

 _He roughly tugs the wings froward, and instinctively Liz pulls back, freeing them from his hold, were they awkwardly fall back to her side. But that movement, little as it was, seems to be enough to send the Thin Man into an overjoyed frenzy._

 _"Yes yes yes! I knew it! The other subjects were all too old you see." He grins, wide and mad as he launches into an explanation of his work, "The body, it stops growing as an adult, so their bodies couldn't properly adapt to the forced changes. But a child! A body still growing, still adapting, such a body can take the pressure, it can still grow to change and adapt to the new elements. Just look at her! Look at that fearful gaze! She is still human enough to feel, to think like a person, but beast enough to be stronger, faster,_ better! _She shall represent our next step, that the power of demons is not beyond the Order's reach after all!" He laughs, joyously raising his hands to the roof as he talks, before suddenly becoming somber as he turns to Liz, holding out a hand to her, "Come now, my dear, there is much work to be done yet. We must first make you presentable, if I am to bring you before the Grandmaster."_

* * *

From then on, their treatment of her had been much different.

They bathed her, scrubbing her clean of all the filth at had built up on her over her time of imprisonment. The clothes she had been wearing ever since her capture, now little more than rags, were tossed out, replaced with fresh, clean robes baring the symbol of the Order.

And she was fed. Not the putrid bits of meat or mouldy bread they force fed her after the black liquid stuff, but real, proper food and clean water that didn't taste of decay.

And all the while she was kept under close guard, a Brute assigned to watch her every move, constantly followed wherever she went. Not that she could go far, for the first few weeks she was simply too weak to walk. But, the Thin Man was determined to strengthen her from then on.

That, would prove to be his fatal mistake.

* * *

 _Eight months after having gained these wings, and finally, Liz new herself to be strong enough to try to escape._

 _She had bided her time, knowing that there was no point in running when she could barely even walk. So she waited. She ate, she trained, she built herself back from the ground up. The Thin Man thought of her as his pet, and she played to that. She followed his orders, trained to fight, to use her wings just like he told her. It was by no means a walk in the park, but she had to be patient._

 _It was agony, acting as if everything they had done to her was fine, as if she_ liked _then now, it was even harder not to run when she found the way out some months back._

 _But today was the day, she was going to be free,_ truly _free._

 _She fingers the dagger hidden in the folds of her robes as she follows Thin Man up to the surface. He says today's the day, he's going to take her to be presented to the Grandmaster. It'll be the first time she's been outside in two years. She had asked the Thin Man how long he'd had her for, and he'd been all too happy to tell her everything. About his plans, about the Noceum Order which he follows, about how he made her into what she is now, all of it. And with each new piece of information he shares, Liz's anger only grows more fierce._

 _She's gone past the point of hatred, she's on a whole new plain of rage._

 _The sun is bright and hurts her eyes terribly, but she forces herself to push past the pain in order to see. Something she's learned how to do with ease from her time here._

 _A small caravan is waiting for them, with the other Masked Ones and Brutes all piled on, ready to leave._

 _It's now or never…_

 _Quick as a flash, Liz pulls out the dagger, and charges. She thrusts it forward, aiming for the Thin Man's back and…_

 _She slices through thin air._

 _Blinking in surprise, she suddenly finds her arms grabbed as the Thin Man stands behind her, grinning down condescendingly, he tuts._

 _"Tsk, tsk, do you really think me so foolish as to believe for one_ second _that you were actually obedient? You may be my greatest creation yet, but your no different than them." He nods to the Brutes, one of them climbing down out of the cart, as he pulls her arm back and up behind her, twisting her wrist and forcing her to drop the dagger. "All dogs must learn to obey their master, and all horses must be broken before they can be ridden. But I've grown to like your spirit, so I'll let you be. For now." He huffs, shoving Liz into the Brute and ordering, "Lock her up, we can't risk our dear present getting loose now."_

 _She's thrown into a caged cart, the very same one, she realises, as the one she was tossed into when they took her from her village. But unlike that time, they don't cover the cage, leaving her to bake in the desert sun as they travel._

 _From the stars she can tell their heading north, but even without them, she already knows where they're going._

 _To the Capital of Talmeré, to see the Grandmaster of the Noceum Order himself, King Momarîs._

 _It's by pure chance, a complete coincidence that couldn't possibly be planned for, that Liz finds her second chance for escape._

* * *

 _It's late at night, when they stop, the halt in movement causing Liz to stir from her restless sleep in the dry hay and cloth scraps that can hardly be called a bed. They're in the middle of nowhere, no change there, the Thin Man has purposely chosen a route to avoid encountering other people as much as possible._

 _So it is perhaps simply bad luck of the Thin Man, that at that particular spot, on that very night, they found themselves parked right in the way of the Army of Daská, who happened to be marching on the border of Krineln._

 _What was to follow can only be described as carnage._

 _Given the Masked Ones and Brutes shady appearances, not to mention showing up right in the path of the marching army, in a place where no ordinary people would go, it's not hard to see how the Daská army identified them as enemy spies. As for the Thin Man, he could not risk his little experiments, or the Order being found out, so the only thing to do; get rid of the army._

 _Seven Brutes and four Masked Ones against a secret army of six thousand troops, you'd think it'd be an unfair fight, but then you'd be wrong._

 _Liz watched from between the bars of her cage, as the Brutes slaughtered hundreds with ease, and the Masked Ones used such dark and twisted magic to kill, it should have terrified her, but she had long since lost her sense of fear of them, because she knew exactly what these men could do._

 _Daská was losing, and they knew it. It took dozens of men to bring down a single Brute, and they couldn't even touch the Masked Ones._

 _Liz sighed, thinking that she's doom to be the play thing of these men for the rest of her life, that is, until through all the chaos, a single Daskán soldier snuck up to her cage._

 _"I do not know who or what you are child, but if you are caged by them, then you cannot be with them, please, use your wings, if you can, and fly South, warn Daská of our enemy. They must be prepared for this terror!" The soldier whispers hurriedly, using his short sword to snap the lock on her cage, freeing her._

 _For a moment, Liz just sits there, staring. Freedom. It's her's. She doesn't know what to say or do, before she suddenly scrambles for the door. But just before she climbs out, she sees the Thin Man amongst the battle, and in an instant, her blinding hatred for him fills her. Like a switch has been flipped, she spreads her wings wide and leaps into the air, but she's not in control of herself._

* * *

Liz blinks at the scroll being held out to her, before taking it and boredly reading over it. Another list of expenditures, costs of construction, rebuilding infrastructures, taxes… She can't find anything wrong with it, so she takes up her quill, signing her name along the bottom and approving the document.

She doesn't remember much of the battle after that, only coming back to her senses with the sun rising over the sea of bodies, and she, covered in blood, was kneeling, her hand still on a dagger driven into the Thin Man's throat. The other Masked Ones were nowhere to be seen, but all the Brutes except one were dead, the last one having no doubt disappeared with the Masked Ones.

The few soldiers that survived must have retreated back to Daská's capital.

Now free, her captor dead by her hand, she hadn't known what to do, but somehow, she made it back to her village, or rather what had been her village. All that was left of there was the burnt, hollowed out shells of destroyed homes and overgrown fields from lack of tending.

Homeless and directionless with nothing to her name, Liz cried. The first real cry of loss and despair, for everything that had happened to her, in two long years.

She wanted to know why her? Why her village, her home, her family? They took everything from her. Not just her family and home, but also her innocence. She was no longer simply a child, ignorant of the world around her. She was forced to grow up, far faster than any nine year old should have.

But she wouldn't let this defeat her, she had to live, to find meaning for all of this, other wise what's the point of her having survived this long?

So she picked herself up, scavenged watch she could from the ruins of her village, and wandered.

She wandered for two whole years, scavenging off the scraps of towns and back streets of cities. She learned early on that no one wanted anything to do with her, her wings scared most off, and others who saw her would throw rocks or call the guards, so she was alone.

Until that fateful day, she met him.

* * *

 _The loud, drunken laughter spilling out of the tavern is like a sign, lighting up the knight sky; free food. That is, if she's careful._

 _Sneaking unseen down back streets, and through dirty alleys is as easy as flying to Elizabeta. The tricky part is getting the scraps tossed into the dump boxes without being noticed._

 _With a grumbling stomach, she bides her time, watching and waiting from the shadows of a building across the small backstreet._

 _When a barmaid throws open the door, arms full of plates piled with scraps, Liz knows this is her chance. Silent as the night, she creeps closer, watching as the woman scrapes the plates off into the half rotten crate by the door. Once done, the woman heads back in, closing the door after her, and Liz makes her move._

 _Dashing across the street, she heads straight for the box, wasting no time in digging through the waste, before grinning wide at her find. People throw out so much, it'd make her angry if it didn't mean she's guaranteed to find something good._

 _Three apples with little more than a single bite out of them, and even better, half a roast Scocreox! Barely even touched too._

 _But a sound from behind her causes Liz to freeze in her search, snapping her head around to see. Has someone spotted her? Or is it some stray dog also looking for a free meal? Will she need to run, or can she get away with her haul before they get too close?_

 _She expects to see a drunk, or maybe a guard or dog or even a couple of teens breaking curfew. She doesn't expect to see a small, scruffy boy, frozen in the alleyway, staring at her. He's terribly dirty, and his clothes, though probably quite nice once, are ripped and torn, hanging loose from him as he remains still, transfixed by the sight of Liz._

 _Frowning, Liz tightens her hold on her haul, taking a half step back from the box to turn and better face the boy._

 _"What?" She whisper barks, "Gonna call the guards on me, huh?"_

 _The boy says nothing, only continuing to stare, his eyes clearly following Liz's wings._

 _"It's rude to stare you know." She huffs, feeling self conscious of the way the boy is looking at her wings. "What! What'd you want?"_

 _The boy still seems incapable of forming words, but the loud grumble from his stomach answers for him._

 _Before Liz can think to tell him to go find his own food, the bar door opens behind her, and the barmaid comes back out. Looking over her shoulder, Liz hurriedly eyes the woman, who thankfully hasn't seen them yet, too busy shouting back into the bar to have looked._

 _Without a moment to spare, Liz runs, dropping an apple in the process, she shifts her haul to one arm and with her free hand, grabs the boy's wrist, tugging him after her, back down into the shadows of the alley._

 _By the time the woman turns, all she sees is an apple that mysteriously missed the box._

 _Only once the woman goes back inside, does Liz sigh in relief, before turning her attention to the boy._

 _"Way to go dummy, you nearly got us caught!"_

 _"…Sorry…" The boy mumbles, looking down and shifting his weight from foot to foot. The apology is the first word the boy has said to her._

 _It's a start, better than being stared at, so Liz decides to build on it._

 _"What're you doing out here anyway? Don't you have parents?"_

 _The boy's head snaps up, with wide eyes, before slowly dropping again as he shakes his head._

 _"No… dead…" He mumbles._

 _Sighing, Liz tells him, "That's okay, mine are too. Here," She picks up one of the remaining apples, holding it out to him, "what's your name?"_

 _Slowly, the boy takes the apple, sniffing it carefully before he mumbles behind it too quietly for Liz to hear._

 _"Eh? Speak up."_

 _"Antonio… my names… Antonio Fernández Carriedo."_

 _Liz raises an eyebrow at him as she takes a bite out of the last apple, "That's a fancy name."_

 _Antonio shifts awkwardly as he nibbles on his apple, not sure what to say to that, but Liz just shrugs._

 _"Well anyway, it was nice meeting you. Bye." She waves and turns to leave, but stops when a hand grabs her arm._

 _"Wait!" Antonio cries, then meekly asks, "Can… can I… come with you?"_

 _Liz isn't sure what compels her to take an interest in this boy, after all, she's seen plenty of other kid beggars just like him. Maybe it's the fact he hasn't run screaming at the sight of her like all the others, or maybe it's because he's the first person to talk to her beyond shouts of calling her demon spawn, or maybe it's because this is the first time anyone has reached out to her, not with the intent to harm, but to ask for kindness._

 _"You don't even know my name." Why she thinks this is the reason the boy shouldn't be interested in her, she doesn't know, maybe because that's what normal people would say._

 _"I know." He says, then grins, it's small and sheepish, but from it Liz catches a glimpse of a much livelier boy hidden under uncertainty._

 _"Aren't you scared of me?"_

 _"A little," he admits, and Liz wonders why she expected anything else, before Antonio adds, "But that doesn't mean we can't be friends right?"_

 _Shaking her head, Liz gives in, the boy's simply to baffling for her to figure out._

 _"Alright Antonio, in that case, I'm Elizabeta Héderváry."_

* * *

A knock on the door pulls Liz back to the present once more.

"Enter." She calls, watching as the door is opened by a middle aged man dressed in semi-finery.

"M'lady, council men, the emissaries of Meshar have arrived."

"Good, the council is dismissed for today." She smiles, rising to follow the man out.

As she walks, she straightens down her tunic, adjusting her breastplate and hair as she stretches her wings, happy to be up and moving about again.

It doesn't take long to get to her destination, where she stands waiting upon the steps of the buildings entrance, the entrance to the Palace of Kings.

She smiles as she watches them arrive, and clearly riding up front, is Antonio.

"I see you finally got this old place fixed up." Is the first thing he says to her as he dismounts.

He looks quite different since they last saw each other. For starters his hair has been cut, the previously long curls now short and brighter, making him look younger. Then, there's the robes of white and gold, with a touch of green here and there. They've clearly been tailored to fit him perfectly, and those new boots shine with the sun. But the most noticeable difference is the crown, not like the one he wore when they parted ways, but a much grander one. It's by far the oldest thing on him, and the way it's three green gemstone shine tell Liz it's recently been cleaned.

"Did you ever doubt I would?" She smirks, "You've been officially crowned King now, and I'm something like a Queen here, so where better to hold talks of our alliance, than the very place the Kingdom's of Old once met?"

The Palace of Kings. An ancient building said to be from the Days of Beginning, sits on the very spot the Borderlines of North and South Daská meet with The Western Desert. It had been in ruins long before the 'Fall of the South', having fallen into disuse because of it's remote location.

Given it's powerful symbolism, Elizabeta had spent much of her time since leaving Meshar overseeing it's repair.

And now, though nowhere near completely restored, it is never the less again ready to fulfil it's ancient purpose.

Toni laughs as he follows her in, "I've never known you to be one for traditions."

"No," Liz agrees, "but perhaps now is the time to change that."

Suddenly Toni stops her by the arm, turning to face Liz, he gives her a serious look, "What's wrong?"

She sighs, trust Toni to notice when something is up with her.

"Nothing much, I've…" she pauses for a moment, looking off into the distance, before starting to walk again, "I've just been thinking, about the past, is all."

"Oh." It's not a sound of shock, simply a noise of understanding. Antonio knows enough not to say anything further.

They walk in silence for a while, before the pair reach the room for the talks to take place, the council having cleared out and servants reset the room for this next meeting.

"I was thinking about the day I met you." Liz says, surprising Toni.

"You were?"

"Mmh, You were so skinny and meek, ahh, whatever happened to that shy little boy?" She smirks, eyeing him out of the corner of her eye.

Grinning Antonio laughs, "He met you."

Liz shakes her head, returning to her seat to wait for the rest of the dignitaries to file in. Antonio fills the time with mindless chatter of his home and how Meshar is improving, but Liz's mind is wondering off elsewhere once again.

* * *

Liz and Antonio were together for a long time after that day. They became as thick as thieves, mostly because for a long time they were. They moved up from stealing scraps to stealing from market stalls and pickpocketing. They created a process, Liz's wings were always good for causing a distraction, while Toni would slip in and grab whatever he could get his hands on, the guards never new a thing, too busy trying to chase the demon girl.

But all good things come to an end.

They had caused such a ruckus over they years that Liz and Toni became something of an urban legend, the demon girl who brought loss of fortune to all those who witnessed her. It was really just a matter of time before they were caught.

But, rather than be made an example of or put to death for their crimes, the garrison Master who caught them saw potential in the pair of miscreants. So they were given an offer, join the Daská Free Army, or be publicly flogged. Not much of a decision needed, they signed up.

However, their days of peace were soon to come to an end. The rippling after effects of Elizabeta's escape from the Thin Man ran deep, deeper than she could possibly have imagined.

The loss of nearly six thousand men at the border to Krineln twelve years ago could never fully be explained. And now, sons and daughters who had lost their parents on that day were old enough to fight, and they wanted answers. But when none of the Three Houses of Krineln could provide one, the coming War was inevitable.

First, it was just Daská's northern half that marched on Krineln, but soon after they began their siege, a devision between the Clans of the South and North of Daská started to form, and with their internal strife, Meshar, now under the tyrannical rule of a foreigner from the Qonia Empire, launched an attack.

The fighting became an all out struggle for control across all of the Southern Known Territories, even the deserts to the East and West were affected.

Daská was torn apart from the inside, the Houses of Krineln were in disarray, and Meshar was but a mere shadow of the great peaceful Kingdom it once was.

But the worst was yet to come. For it was then, in the mist of the third year of all this madness, that marching from the North, Talmeré attacked. An army of three hundred thousand men and women descended upon Krineln, with but one goal in mind; domination.

Elizabeta had been their that day, the day that would come to be known as the Fall of the South.

* * *

 _"Elizabeta!"_

 _Turning at hearing her name being called, Liz saluted to the hurriedly approaching patrolman._

 _"What is it?" At this point it could be just about anything, but he's smiling so it must be good news, for once._

 _"Did you hear? The Third and Second Houses have surrendered!"_

 _"Seriously?" Liz gapes, shocked by the news._

 _After three full years of hitting Krineln with everything they have, she didn't think the Houses were ever going to give in._

 _"Yeah! I just heard it from the Commander himself!"_

 _Liz sighs, letting her whole body and wings sag with relief, this is by far the best news she's hand in months. But now, all that's left is the First House of Krineln, and by far the oldest. If anyone is going to hold out to the very end, it'll be them. No way they'll surrender._

 _She's heard the First House has always been stubborn, and, since she's the only one here who knows their in the right about all this, she knows for a fact they won't ever give in. Sometimes she wishes she'd done more to convince the High Command of Krineln's innocence, she was there that day after all. But deep down she knows no one would have listened to her, no matter how hard she tried. So for now this is all she can do, she'll fight, and try to spare as many Krinelnians as possible, it's the least she can do._

 _At night fall she joins the others in celebrating the surrender, because it'd be weird if she didn't, plus she is glad that at least two of the Houses have decided to stop fighting. It's while she's wondering how Antonio is doing on his deployment, when the signal fires are lit._

 _"An attack?!" One of the men shouts alarmed at the sight, and the call goes out, spreading like wildfire as everyone gathers to arms._

 _"How? I thought the Second House had surrendered?!"_

 _"Those lying bastards! Trying to get us while we're down!"_

 _"No look! Those colours, those aren't Krineln's!"_

 _"What? Impossible!"_

 _"Then who?"_

 _"It can't be!"_

 _"How did we not notice them crossing over?!"_

 _"Everyone, to your posts! Prepare for contact!"_

 _Liz ran to the top of the fort, near throwing herself at the battlements to get a look at who's attacking. Her eyes widening at the sight, hundreds upon hundreds of men marching under the banner of the Kingdom of Talmeré. She remembers, it was fifteen years ago, the Thin Man told her, Talmeré's King, is the Grandmaster of the Noceum Order, the ones responsible for destroying not just her life, but Antonio's too._

* * *

She had thrown herself into battle that night, driven by the belief that all of Talmeré was toxic, and the advancing army was proof of that, at least, it was to her back then. Until that is, she met Gilbert Beilschmidt.

With the attack of Talmeré, the forces of Daská and Krineln came to a sudden and remarkable ceasefire, instead banding together to fight back against the invaders. The enemy of my enemy is my friend as they say, and that was very true that night. The Talmeriens clearly weren't expecting this either.

With the combined forces, Talmeré's army was forced to a stand still, and it would have been routed completely, if it wasn't for him.

* * *

 _Liz flew silently through the night sky, holding the satchel entrusted to her close. It had taken months for this plan to be made, and now, it was all up to her. Only she could do this, only_ she _could bypass the enemy, cross over the sand pits, and get behind their main forces. It was up to her, to ensure both Daská's and Krineln's victory, together._

 _If she does this, then maybe, just maybe, the fighting can finally stop between them all and they can start to work towards peace again. She knows it's a long shot, but she has to hope, that's why she agreed to this mission._

 _Her task is simple, get behind the Talmeré army, to the star white sands of Krineln's holy ground, in the heart of the sand pits, and plant the satchel._

 _There shouldn't have been anyone there, no one should have known…_

 _So then how..?_

 _When she reaches the white sands, she finds a small army of around three hundred waiting for her._

 _With crossbows train to the sky, they shot her down, like they knew she was coming…_

 _She lands heavily in the coarse sand with bleeding wings riddled with bolts, and is immediately grabbed, the satchel torn from her hands._

 _A bulky man rifles through it, easily finding the charm stones inside._

 _"Well done Beilschmidt. I don't know where you got your intel, but it seems you've won us the war, and without any major losses, just like you'd promised." The man grins down at her, "And found us a rather interesting prize too." He then turns to a silvery haired man with skin so pale he might as well be a ghost, and blood red eyes. "Here Beilschmidt, you seem to know how these are used."_

 _Handing the satchel full of charm stones over to the red eyed man, the bulky one grins, "My men are all in position, so you better be right about this, or it'll be your head that rolls." He warns, before waving a hand forward, "Win us the war."_

 _Stepping past the large man, Beilschmidt gives Liz a passing glance, and she hates how he almost seems to say he's sorry in that one look._

 _One by one, the red eyed man drives each of the charm stones into the sand, in a pattern nothing like Liz has ever seen done before._

 _"That's it?" The big man asks, raising an eyebrow at the stone._

 _"Not yet…" Red eyes says._

 _Standing back, with a flourish of his hand, red eyes start to glow, and with them the charm stones begin to resonate. The stones 'sing', each emitting a high pitched note that combines together to create the 'song', and the sound is just as relaxing as Liz was told it'd be._

 _Once again, red eyes looks to Liz, and it's almost like he's saying 'forgive me'. A moment later, there's a stinging, searing pain shooting through Elizabeta's stomach, and red eyes is far too close. Then, looking down, it all clicks as she sees red oozing out of her belly; red eyes stabbed her._

 _Pulling the knife free, her blood spills on the charm stones, and with it, the 'song' changes, becoming a violent screeching that shakes the very sand beneath her._

 _"Now, it's done."_

* * *

 **Authors notes:** And that's it for the flashbacks, next time we'll be back with the boys and wolves. Bit of an odd place to leave it I know, buuut, we all know Liz lives so it's all good.

So, because it doesn't really come up, here's some clarification on ages from all this: Liz is 7 when she is taken from her village and spends two years being experimented on by the Order and raised to be 'presentable'. She's 9 by the time she is freed and kills the Thin Man. She then meets Antonio when she is 11, Toni at this point is 8, having spent a year on the run from the Blood Viper after his family is killed, (and two years after the flashback of his from chapter 29). They live together on the streets for around seven years, being 18 and 16 respectively by the time they are caught and join the Daská army. And by the end here Liz is 24, having spent three years on the battlefields of Krineln, when she meets Gil for the first time… and he stabs her… incidentally, Gil is 19 here and not yet a Commander, this being the war that earns him that promotion. This last scene also takes place 10 years before the present, in which Liz is 34, Antonio is 32, Gilbert is 29, and even though they don't show up here, our twins are still 19, only a few months having passed since the start of the story. As for Arthur, well, you'll have to wait for that one…

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	40. Into the woods

Spending the night with a pack of giant wolves who only hours ago were moments away from killing him is by far the oddest and scariest moment in Matthew's life. With neither the pack leader nor Arthur in any shape to move, the group had no choice but to set up camp there and then at the bottom of the slope the wolves rolled down when fighting.

The camp fire was small, just enough to provide some much needed heat against the fast approaching night. Sitting by the fire, he watched as Al fussed over Arthur — the white wolf's fur stained deep red all across his body — while Gil moved to kneel with him at the fire. Despite Alfred's assurance that the pack won't attack them again, both Matt and Gilbert remained rightfully wary.

As Gil pokes at the small fire-pit, Matt catches a glimpse of his sword as he keeps it drawn and resting on the ground beside him, and a rustling in the branches over head reminds him that Gilbrid is keeping watch from a perch above.

But while their group stayed close to the flames, the pack were more distant, large eyes glaring out from the edges of the light as they guard their injured leader. The distrust from both sides was clear, and Matt sighed as he settled in for what he knew would be a sleepless nights rest. He had offered what little healing magic he knew to help Arthur — one of the few magics he's admitted not greatly skilled at — but Al had sleepily assured him that Arthur would be fine as he lay down next to the belly of the now slumbering beast, and Matt wondered at how his twin wasn't the least bit afraid of the large paw that moved to drape over him.

* * *

Come morning Matt sighs at the bleak light trying to break through the dark trees blocking out the sky above. Finding the fire now dead, he stands and stretches, thankful for the few precious hours of half dozing he got in, while he finds Gilbert already alert and leaning up against a near by tree, watching over the twins as he eyes the wolf pack near by, his sword stabbed into the soil at his side just in case. Looking up at a rustling, Matt can just about see Gilbrid hopping between branches restlessly, before he decides to brave approaching Alfred still sleeping pressed up against Arthur's belly.

"Al?" He asks quietly, not wanting to disturb his very dangerous bedmate, crawling as close as he dares to get. When he get's no response he tries again a bit louder. "Al wake up."

"Mmrggghh." His twin groans, and Matthew almost chuckles at how this reminds him off all the times as kids he'd have to wake Al up before he'd be late for training.

"Come on Al, it's time to get going."

Blinking slowly at the world around him, Alfred realises he's faced with a wall of white fur as he slides back from Arthur, turning to squint over his shoulder at his brother. "Mattie?"

"Morning sleepyhead." Matt can't help the tease slipping out before he shuffles back and stands, turning to grab his bag.

Finally awake enough to remember what's going on, Alfred rolls himself out from under Arthur, the movement enough to finally wake the wolf who blinks over at the pair curiously.

"Hey Artie, how you feeling?" Al asks as he stands, dusting some dirt from his tunic.

Matt stands quietly to the side as he watches his brother smile and sigh.

"That's good." He says as the wolf stands, and Matthew inwardly shrinks away. Despite how long they've been traveling together, he doesn't think he'll ever get used to just how _big_ Arthur is. He's nearly as big as a horse, and, looking over to the rising forms of the pack, Matt is suddenly reminded that Al's wolf is actually kinda small.

Alfred suddenly looks over as one of the pack approach, eyes glinting and a deep growl rumbling from its throat. While Matt steps back cautiously, he sees that Alfred doesn't seem the least bit worried as he listens to the voices only he can hear.

"Really? Alright then." He shrugs, turning to Matt and Gil he grins, "Their ready to show us the way."

Nodding Gilbert finally pushes himself up off of the tree, seamlessly tugging his sword from the ground as Gilbrid flies down to land on his shoulder, he moves to stand beside Alfred.

"Good, the sooner we get out of these woods the better."

Looking over, Matt watches as the pack is already on the move, spreading out into the woods before them. The one that spoke to Al suddenly turns and runs off, leaving only the slowly healing leader and another shorter wolf by his side to wait for the group to follow. Curiously, he sees the small one rub her muzzle against the leaders neck before slowly moving off.

"We can keep up." Al suddenly says, before grinning to Matt and Gil, "These guys move fast, so we need to stay close if we don't want to be left behind."

* * *

Alfred huffed as he leaped over another large log, his bag slung over his shoulder bouncing against his back as he hurries to keep the pack leader in sight as he jogs through the woods. He knows from Arthur that the wolves would be fast, but he's pretty sure these guys are purposely making it hard to keep up with them.

On the plus side, having a pack of wolves as their guides is also keeping the smaller creatures from trying to pick them off. And, Alfred was quickly finding it easier to under stand each of the pack members more and more as he listened in to their talk.

Keeping pace at the leaders side, Alfred, not one for liking awkward silences, decides to try to make small talk.

"So," he huffs, "you guys have the run of this place huh?"

Glancing to the knight, the leader glares, ' _Hardly.'_

"Really? Cause I thought wolves were like the top predators or something."

' _True_.' The leader says as he weaves his way through the trees, ' _No natural creature would dare challenge us. Well_ ,' he corrects, eyeing the blond, ' _most wouldn't. But there is far more to these woods than you seem to understand.'_

"Yeah, like what?"

Rather than answer he looks over his shoulder to eye Arthur easily keeping pace at Al's heels.

' _Answer me this White One, why do you care for this Lower? He binds you, yet you'd offer your life for his, Why?'_

Glaring right back Arthur huffs, ' _Why do you care?'_

' _I'm curious._ ' The leader smirks, ' _If I'd killed him, surely you'd have been freed. So why?'_

Arthur growls lowly, ' _I don't have to answer to you.'_

' _No_.' The leader agrees, turning to look forward once more, but he seems set on getting under Arthur's skin, _'But your quite far from home aren't you? And so young, why come here?'_

Stepping closer to Alfred, Al looks up to Arthur as he huffs, _'I go where Al goes, just as your pack goes where you lead.'_

Though Alfred knows the leader is trying to annoy Arthur, he's also curious about it's last comment.

"Young?" He asks, looking between the pair. Now that he thinks about it, he doesn't actually know how old Arthur is.

' _Oh?_ ' The leader drawls mockingly, ' _Don't you know? Your pet is hardly older than a pup.'_ He smirks as Arthur growls, eyes flicking over the faint blond markings on Arthur's shoulders, _'Judging by your coat I'd say you've not even seen fifteen winters.'_

' _Seventeen_.' Arthur corrects dangerously, not that the leader is concerned.

Scoffing the leader turns away, but Al can still see the smirk on it's face.

' _Ah yes, my mistake. I suppose the runt of the litter is always slow to develop.'_

'Shut up!' Arthur snaps, and Al has to fight to keep Arthur from attacking the leader again.

' _Very well._ ' It drawls.

They fall into silence once more for a time, before a howl not too far away sounds and the leader suddenly picks up the pace.

"Hey wait up!" Al cries as he breaks into a run just to try to keep up, but the leader ignores him.

Diving through low branches and over bushes he desperately tries to keep the wolf in sight, but the grey giant quickly becomes as smaller and smaller dot in the distance as the pack disappears from view.

Climbing up a gradual slope, the dense trees slowly give way to rocky terrain covered in moss and spiny, twisting bushes that threaten to scratch up his legs as Alfred finally stops running, doubling over as he tries to catch his breath.

Climbing up the rocks to stand beside Alfred, Arthur glares around, finding the pack completely absent.

"Great." Al huffs, "They ditched us." Looking back the way they came, Al knows Gil will have no trouble catching up, and sure enough only moments later his eagle flies over the tall trees to circle over head.

Despite the predicament, Arthur remains calm.

' _No, they're not far. That howl was a call to hunt, that's why they ran.'_

"Really? And you didn't think to tell me before hand?"

Smirking, Arthur nudges Al with his muzzle, ' _The run is good for you.'_

"Urgh, now you sound like Gil." Al frowns, slowly catching his breath.

Just as he speaks, the very man jogs through the trees behind, Matthew right at his side.

"What the hell kid?" He snaps, climbing up the rocks to smack Alfred up side the head, "What have I told you about charging off by yourself!"

Rubbing his sore head, Al shrinks back, suddenly feeling like a rookie trainee all over again being scolded for not following orders. Though this time he has a wolf who bares his teeth at the strike in warning.

"Sorry," Al says while also patting Arthur's leg to calm his friend, "but the pack all just started running and I didn't want to lose them."

Looking around at the lack of Grey Wolves Gil sighs, "Well fat load of good that did. Guess we'll have to carry on with out our 'guides'."

Turning to give his less athletic twin an apologetic look Al asks, "You good?"

"Yeah." Matt huffs, moving to slowly follow after Gil. "So what now?"

Before Al can answer Arthur speaks up, _'I can follow their scent, they haven't gone too far.'_ His nose twitches as he sniffs the air, frowning slightly. ' _But the smells here are rather unfamiliar, it's hard to tell if they've made a kill or given up on the hunt.'_

At the mention of a kill, Alfred feels a pang of hunger through their bond and gives the wolf a reassuring smile.

"Don't worry, we'll find something for you to eat soon. But until then, lead on."

Nodding Arthur moves forward, following his superior nose to track the missing pack.

Traversing the rocky area is easy for the snow wolf raised in such harsh terrain and whose large size makes the sudden juts and rises of the ground simple to hop over, but for the three humans it's a much different story. While Arthur easily leaps up to the next raised area, the others must carefully pick routes around the taller rocks or find handholds to scramble up.

Pausing to look back, Arthur patiently waits for the trio to reach the ledge at his feet before climbing the last of the hill, coming to stare out over the pitted land of cracked rocks, bushes and small trees. Looking around, they now stood even with the tree canopy of the surrounding forest, the bleak sun mostly hidden behind dark clouds casts long shadows over the flora.

But what catches Arthur's attention is the pack, each member standing upon a raised point, the leader glaring out across the rocks as he watches the group finally catch up.

As soon as the trio reach the top, Gil instantly senses something is up, his hand flying to his sword as he positions himself between the distant pack and Matthew behind him. Al can also tell something is up as he moves to stand beside Arthur.

"What's going on?"

' _You_.' The leader growls, his pack baring their teeth in combined threat, ' _Did you really think I'd be so willing to bend to a pathetic Lower like you?'_ His growl deepening as he looks to Arthur, sneering at the Snow Wolf, ' _You have allowed yourself to be_ tamed! _You've forgotten_ who _you really are!_ We _wolves do not bow._ ' he snarls, stomping his front paws out in righteous anger, then smirks, ' _You should have killed me when you had the chance_ runt _.'_

"Wait-" Al cries, but he can't stop the pack this time.

Raising his head to the sky, the leader howls, a loud and ethereal sound that sends a shiver down Al's spine. It's just like when Arthur creates a blizzard, he can see the leaders brown eyes glow, but it's not just him, for a second later each one of his pack joins in, their calls combining together as their eyes all shine.

"Ahh!" Jumping back, Al winces as he feels a thorn scratch his right ankle, and, looking down his eyes widen as he sees the spiny branches of the bushes around them moving and reaching out to grab onto them.

"Oh shit! They're controlling the plants!" He cries, struggling to pull his arm free of a vine that shots out of a crack in the ground to grab him.

As the howl ends the group all struggle to fend off the growing vines and branches that latch onto their arms and legs. Gil and Al swing their swords to slice through the plants, while Arthur uses his size and power to bite through or simply rip his legs free of the restraints. Matthew on the other hand, uses his dagger to cut away the vines while also casting a protection spell to bounce the vines off of him and prevent himself from being trapped.

But, as they soon find out, the vines are the least of their problems.

Their howl ended, the pack turns, hurriedly running away rather than attacking as they bolt down the steep rock face behind them and head for the safety of the forest below. Preoccupied trying to fend off the vines, none of the group have time to question the packs strange behaviour as the ground beneath their feet begins to shake.

"What the hell?" Gil frowns as he fights to keep his balance and slice away a thorny branch nipping at his legs.

Earthquakes are extremely rare, and he's never felt one this strong in all his life. The ground isn't just shaking, it's rumbling as chunks of rocks break apart and tumble down into the trees all around them.

"Whoa!" Alfred cries as he stumbles, feeling like the ground is shifting beneath him.

Having managed to cast his crude spell, Matt looks all around as he watches the ground shake, the vines harmlessly being repelled whenever they touch him. Suddenly the ground lurches to the side and he's almost sent tumbling head over heels as he realises what's happening.

"Oh Gods, we need to run!" He shouts, grabbing Al's arm and desperately tugging him towards the new slope leading down to the trees.

But before he can explain any further, part of the jutting rock side breaks away to slam into the trees in front of them; an arm the size of a small castle flattening the forest in an instant.

Eyes widening at the sight, Al's mouth gapes, "This thing's alive?!" But he doesn't have time to stand and stare. Thinking fast, he calls out, "Artie, grab Matt, we need to jump!"

Not questioning the knights judgment, Arthur skids forward as the ground rises at an alarming angle an bites down on the back of the blonds tunic, easily lifting him up into the air.

Both their training kicking in, Gil and Al drop into a crouch, their dominant hand out behind them to steady them as they slide down the too steep ground, heading for the sharp, rocky, shifting land, they time their jump just right. As the once flat ground becomes a sheer drop, Al grabs for a skinny tree now at a right angle to the ground and uses it to swing over and down to the broken boulders below, while Gil angles himself to a deep rut in the shifting wall, kicking his leg out to slide then jump to a moving line of rocks running towards the ground.

With Matt securely held in his jaws, Arthur easily makes the biggest leap before the others do, jumping between the moving sections of rock, he carries the twin down to the broken boulders, Alfred landing to his right and rolling down to heavily land in the soft dirt just as few seconds later.

But the group have no time to pause as the rock limb begins sliding through the forest, a wall of uprooted trees, soil and rock hurtling toward them.

"Run!" Gil shouts as he smoothly tucks and rolls from the rocks, springing straight back up to start running away from the fast approaching land mass.

Alfred scrambles to his feet from his side as Arthur continues to carry Matt.

But the rock arm suddenly bends, like an elbow, creating a V shaped funnel blocking all routes out, the creatures large body looming over them.

Halting in their tracks, they look back, and that's when they see it.

Towering over them, the vines from before rapidly growing out and rippling across it's back, a beast of rock the size of a mountain stares down at them as jaws of yellow rock open towards them.

With no where left to run and faced with jaws of death or a moving landslide, they're trapped.

* * *

 **Authors** **notes:** *Rises out of the ashes* **I LIVE!**

Hello yes, I'm back! Geez I am so sorry for that unexpected hiatus, but let me tell you it has been one wild ride for me. Between the last update and now I sprained _both_ my wrists (the right one one week, then the left _right_ after the first was getting better) so I couldn't write for like 2 weeks, then I got a terrible flu, the kind you think your dying from, then I got distracted by an event as I tried to get back into writing and work on some one-shots, then I got a job, quit the job, got distracted by another event, then felt really bad that this story had been left for so long, so here we are!

And after all that I leave you with another cliffhanger, cause that's how I roll. On the plus side part of the next chapter is already written so updates should now return to something of a regular schedule. Hopefully.

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


	41. Titan fall

They're trapped.

Breath like rotten leaves blasts over them as the creature bellows, creating winds as strong as a hurricane that threaten to blow them all away.

Crouching low to the ground behind Arthur, the sound of trees snapping draws Alfred's attention to the wall of destroyed forest to his right. The massive rocks move as, what Al can only describe as fingers, wrap around the plants and stones, gathering one impossibly large handful up into the air, it brings the mass to its open mouth. Lifting his hands to cover his head and neck, bits of tree splinters, dirt and stones rain down over them as the creature crunches on the mess.

As he watched it, Al saw something squirming around, trying to get free of the trapping beast. Though it was only for a second, he could have sworn he saw a spider leg the size of his arm and what looked like a grey-skin baby face poking through the dark branches before being swallowed up by the rock monster.

But he didn't have time to dwell on it, as the rock creature, mouth still working over it's earthen snack, turned it's attention to the forest once more.

Bolting as fast as his legs can carry him, Alfred rushes for the only cover around, diving down into the steep sloped pit created by the things arm only moments ago. The soft, damp soil causes him to lose his footing halfway down, and he tumbles to his side, ending up rolling down to the bottom of the pit. Gilbert is right behind him, making it look easy as he hops over the dirt edge and skilfully skids down the side, while Arthur simply jumps straight to the bottom, finally putting Matthew down who was beginning to feel like a rag doll.

Another bout of rotten air rushes over their heads as a cacophony of large trees snapping like twigs rings just above them.

"Holy shit!" Al cries, pressing his back to the pit edge as he watches the immense shadow the thing casts as it effortlessly clears more of the area around them. "What the hell _is_ that thing?"

Slowly crawling to crouch beside Al, Matthew murmurs in awe, "It's a Titan…"

Frowning, Al tries to think back on any of his training mentioning Titans, but finds his knowledge severely lacking. To his left, Alfred can see Gilbert looking up at the edge of their cover, his red eyes glowing as a deep frown settles on his face.

"It's stripping the entire forest around us, eating or crushing anything it sees trying to get away." He sighs, looking to his feet as his eyes return to normal, "If we try to run, we'll be crushed."

"But we can't stay here." Matt argues.

"No," Gil agrees, hurriedly thinking of a plan.

Alfred knows that look, and he feels his stomach drop at the sight. "Oh no," he shakes his head, not wanting to believe what he's seeing, "Gil, your not _seriously_ thinking of trying to take that thing _on_ are you?"

"We don't have a choice!" Gilbert snaps, unconsciously reverting back to treating Alfred like a trainee under his guidance. Decision made, he turns to Matthew, "Matt, do you know any spells that can alter weight at will?"

"Um, maybe?" Matt answers, caught of guard by the odd question. Not used to being put on the spot so suddenly, he quickly runs through his index of spells he's memorised.

But they don't have time to wait around, as with another deafening roar, the ground violently shakes as the tips of the Titan's fingers curl over the top of the pit, and pull back, effortlessly digging away their cover as mounds of dirt collapses in on them.

Scrambling to not be buried alive, they rush through the long trench away from the Titan's hand.

"Matt?!" Gil pleads desperately as they run.

"I-I don't know!"

The shadow shifts, looming over them again as a warning of the Titan's attention now on them.

Fully taking charge Gil orders, "Alfred, you and the wolf distract the beast, buy us as much time as you can!"

"Distract it?!" Al balks at the order, " _How?!_ "

"Hell if I know, just _go!_ " Gil orders, they're quickly running out of cover.

Seeing the same predicament, Alfred groans in frustration as he waves to Arthur. Through their bond, the message is easily understood, and a moment later the wolf comes to a sliding halt as Alfred hurriedly turns to climb onto his back.

"We're so dead..." He moans, but grips on tight anyway as Arthur quickly pushes up to stand and easily leaps out of the pit.

He draws his sword as he effortlessly finds his position on Arthur's back once more, and swallows as he looks up at the Titan before them.

A somewhat humanoid shaped mountain of stone and rippling branches looms. Still kneeling in the crater it woke up from, the sky is completely blotted out by the uneven bulk of rock that forms it's head. Alfred can't see anything that could be called eyes, or any facial features really besides the massive cavern that splits open like a mouth as it stuffs more trees inside. But it must see him, as it's rocky hand lifts from scraping away the trench to drift over towards them.

"Arthur!" He urges as the sound of rocks grinding fills the air above them, the dark shadow of the limb slipping to cover them.

He doesn't need to say anything more as the wolf charges, easily picking up speed over the soft and uneven ground. They leap over and around the remains of downed trees, and misplaced boulders, and as the hand descends, Al grins up over their heads.

"It's big, but slow!" He cries as the hands slams into the ground several meters behind them.

Looking to his sword, Al doubts if it'll have much of an effect, but it's worth a shot. His intentions travel through their bond, and before he's even fully formed the thought, Arthur is skidding into a tight turn, twisting around to run straight for the hand partially embedded in the ground behind them.

Not much aiming is needed to strike the massive rock pillar that is the Titan's arm, but just as he thought, even Al's newly upgraded Soul Reaver clanks uselessly off the solid rock, his arm bouncing back with the force of the hit.

"Damn it." He huffs as the Titan tilts it's head, it's other arm rising to chase after them. "Just how in the Gods names does Gil think we can take this down?"

* * *

"Matt," Gilbert urges in a voice sounding a strange mix of desperation and comfort, his hands resting on Matthew's shoulders as they both kneel in the shallow end of the trench, "Just concentrate, I know you gotta have something we can use tucked away in that big head of yours."

He flicks his gaze up to the edge of their remaining cover. He knows Alfred'll do everything he can to buy them time, but time is against them here. Looking back to the teen in front of him, Gil holds his breath as Matt closes his eyes, a slight frown creasing his brow as he no doubt runs through every spell he can think off.

Finally after what feels like a small eternity his eye's snap open, nervously shifting around as he thinks over something.

"I might have something, but it'll only last for a few seconds."

Gil nods, "That's all I'll need."

Suddenly looking around them, Matt snatches up a oil black leaf and a dirt covers stone the size of a small pebble.

"Lighter of heavier?" He asks.

"Both," Gil frowns as he runs through his plan, "able to switch at will would be best."

"Got it." Matt hurriedly clears the ground in front of him of any other leaves and stones, then quickly digs rings through the soft soil with his fingers.

Gilbert recognises a few of the ruins he rights, but he's more preoccupied keeping an eye out for the Titan as he hears the ground being impacted once more.

Dropping the leaf and stone into a circle each, Matt holds his hands out over them and quietly begins chanting, the rings lighting to glow with his magic. There's a roar from the beast above, and Gil tenses, but remains still, ready to grab Matt and run the second things get dangerous. Well, _more_ dangerous.

The spell ends and Matt gestures to the objects, now slightly glowing with an imprint of the ruins running like violet veins across them.

"The leaf will lighten you to that of a feather, and the stone will weigh you down to that of a great boulder." He explains, pausing before worriedly adding, "Or it should, but it was rushed so I can't say it'll be exact, but each one will only last for four seconds." He then grimaces slightly, "To use them you have to, um, eat them. Sorry."

Not even fazed, Gil snatches up the items, stuffs them in a loose fold of his tunic, draws his sword, looks up at the trench edge and grins.

"Stay here." He warns, then springs up, vaulting over the edge.

* * *

The Titan grumbles in what Al thinks might be annoyance as he and Arthur run under it's hands, causing it's arm's to cross, then doubles back to have Arthur leap across it's slow fingers, his sword clanking loudly as he swings, aiming to at least chip off some rock.

Though perhaps frustrating it wasn't the best idea, as much to his horror, the Titan rises up to it's feet, now even larger as it aims it's much wider rock like feet to step on them. However, Alfred happily realises even as it's massive foot rushes towards them, they're not out played yet.

"Arthur!" He shouts, and is infinitely thankful for their close bond letting him tell the wolf exactly what he's thinking.

At his name, Arthur leaps atop a large boulder in his path, but this time as his paws make contact, he let's his magic flow down into the stone, and out over the soft dirt all around. Alfred can feel the cold radiating off of Arthur as ice rapidly spreads out over the once forest floor.

He had hoped the large Titan would be destabilised by the ice and fall, but he didn't account for the creature being so heavy that it's dropping foot only cracks through it.

"Welp, I'm out of ideas." Al sighs, then his eyes bulge as he quickly ducks, "Oh shit!" He cries as the Titan twists to swing it's hand back through the air, only missing Al's head by inches.

Sitting back up, he doesn't have time to relax, as the arm swings back like a pendulum, now even lower, it's fingers rushing through the icy ground, hurtling toward them. Al's eyes widen in panic, Arthur's moving too fast to change directions in time, and he doesn't have a chance at blocking it.

Arthur must feel his sudden panic, but rather than sense fear back, Al feels a confident assurance as, much to his surprise, Arthur only picks up speed, running at what Al can tell is his top speed. Arthur is panting heavily below him, mouth open to take in as much air as he can, while his shear speed causes the wind to whip Al's hair around, his tunic flapping out behind him.

In the back of his mind Al knows he needs to get better at reading Arthur's specific intentions, as only a rough idea forms for him, but he trusts the wolf regardless, leaning down close to Arthur's back and tightening his grip. As the hand nears, Alfred feels the tingle of Arthur's magic flowing into him, but there's something different about it this time. Rather than the gentle ebb and tug of usual when sharing power, this surrounds him, encompassing his very being. His skin tingles sharply with the sudden cold, an almost oppressive, demanding force invading him, pulling him apart, and then, the Titan hand strikes.

They should have been splatted, turning into a crumpled pile of bones and blood from the sheer force of the impact, but… they weren't.

The massive rock hand rushed forward, finger tips digging dips into the soil as it aimed to flatten the charging wolf and rider, only for the pair to vanish. One moment there, the next, a flurry of snow flutters and rushes, spiralling around, over, and between the fingers of the Titan. The snow rushes, collecting back together into the shape of a wolf and rider behind the hand, and just like that, melts back to their original forms.

Alfred gasps, almost falling off Arthur's back. He felt like he'd just been shattered into a thousand tiny shards, scattered about and then rather abruptly shuffled back together, which, is pretty much what just happened.

He gapes, dozens of questions rocketing through his mind, but they don't have time to stand about as the Titan is far from done with them. Pushing the event from his mind for the time being, Al holds on tight once more as Arthur turns, running around the back of the beasts legs just as Al spies Gil climbing out of the trench.

* * *

The second he's out of the trench, Gilbert takes in everything he can. The Titan, now standing tall and swinging it's arms low at Alfred riding the wolf, the distance to the edges of the remaining forest, the distance from him to the beast and finally up to the sky, eyeing the small shape of Gilbrid circling above.

Tightening his grip on his sword, he breaks into a run, straight for the Titan. With his blade in hand, he swings and flicks the metal, the low glint of light reflecting off it gaining Al's attention, as with his other he signals the teen as series of commands; Turn, Hand to Ground, Retreat, get Matt. He know's the kid's got the message when he purposefully runs under the Titan's legs, striking them with a seemingly pointless clank of his sword, but actually drawing it to reach it's arm after him.

As the pair draw near, he calls a trilling whistle to Gilbrid, signalling his partner where to fly. He'll only get one shot at this, but that's all he needs.

Exactly as he planned, he watches as Alfred baits the Titan to slam it's hand down into the ground a few meters away, not breaking stride once as he raises his spare hand to tag Al out. He hears a rushed good luck as the kid and wolf run past, but he doesn't answer back, focused on jumping onto the Titan's fingers and up to the back of it's hand. With it's focus still held on Al, it doesn't even notice him, that is until he drives his sword down into a deep crack between the stones, his Flame Blade glowing orange inside.

Something like a howl of pain escapes the Titan as it jerks it's hand up, just like Gil had planned. At the exact moment the Titan recoils, he pulls his sword free with one hand, while with the other he finds the magic imbued leaf and stuffs it in his mouth, biting down on it to activate it's power. He feels the effects instantly, Matthew's magic lightening him to fly high into the air from the sudden momentum. He quickly whistles again, and before he can fall back to the ground, Gilbrid loops through the air behind him, talons reaching out to grasp Gilbert by the back of his tunic. He whistles out quick directions for the bird to adjust his angle and position, all while silently counting down how long he has before the spell wears off.

He whistles again, signalling his eagle to release him just before his time is up, and he begins to fall down over the Titan's head.

Just like before, with his left hand he twirls his sword, making it glow brighter and brighter with it's fire magic, and with his right hand shoves the magic stone in his mouth, crunching down on it to release it's magic.

Aiming the weight of his landing into the hilt of his sword, he crashes down onto the beasts head. His weight massively increased, the blade easily sinks deep into a carefully pinpointed crack, and the rest of his weight slams down, the force enough to topple the giant, falling face first into the ground with a deafening crash of rocks shattering and soil blasted out under it's body. The vines all around spasm as they try to reach for Gil, but the bright orange glow of his swords flames travel out from his strike, shining out of every crack like veins of power, and a horribly pained cry rips from the Titan's mouth in the dirt. Pushing down more, Gil feels as his sword burns the creature from the inside out, and then, silence.

The glow dies out in an instant as Gilbert pulls his sword free, charred rocks and vines crumbling off it as he rises to stand, the beast still beneath his feet.

Matthew stares. Alfred stares. Arthur stares.

The Titan is dead.

* * *

 **Authors notes:** I've said it before and I'll say it again: Gilbert is a badass.

So yeah, we've only been in the Wilderness for a short while, an already our boys have faced mind bending enchantments, smug wolves, a trap and now a Titan. And there's still much more to come.

R & R people.

Until next time, stay awesome!


End file.
